


The Cumin Saga

by HyperCaz



Series: Cumin Universe [5]
Category: Dr. Horrible's Sing-Along Blog
Genre: Action, Angst, Crossover, Drama, Established Relationship, F/M, Gen, Humor, Superheroes, Toddlers, Villains, Zombies
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2012-05-29
Updated: 2012-06-22
Packaged: 2017-11-06 05:21:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 24,424
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/415177
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HyperCaz/pseuds/HyperCaz
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Five years after the events of The League is Watching, the real villain behind the slaying of the ELE isn't too pleased that Dr. Horrible took the credit. And this time, Dr. Horrible has more than one weakness...</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Coin Wash Menace ACT I - Five Years Later

**Author's Note:**

> This is a minor crossover, but it's negligible enough that I will only tag one fandom for now.

_I saw Penny today._

_You talk to her?_

_So close. I'm just a few weeks away from a real, audible, connection._

_-_ Dr. Horrible & Moist,  _Doctor Horrible's Sing-Along Blog_

 

* * *

Years are comprised of a set number of days, weeks, months and trips to the laundromat. Whether or not any of these years are kind to anyone who happens to be experiencing the temporal cycle of the third planet from the oh-so-very originally named Sun, the passing of time does occur.

Moist knew that five or six years ago he had formed a friendship with one named Billy. He also knew, from old newspaper clippings filling a certain disused lair, that a wannabe villain named Doctor Horrible had mysteriously disintegrated every member of the old Evil League of Evil. Since then, things had been wonderful, terrible and then just plain strange.

Midday on a Saturday was the only time the Coin Wash was anywhere near vacated, probably because most people had better plans which involved inhaling food instead of fabric softener. Watching various pairs of underthings and socks tumble over each other in the dryer, Moist waited with baited breath and anticipation.

"It's coming," he promised the girl balanced on his hip.

She stared hard into the dryer.

One pink sock, riddled with holes and dark immovable stains so as to render it brown, splattered against the window.

"Mos! See!" she said, pointing.

"Yeah, I see it," Moist acknowledged. "Socky. That's a record isn't it? Three times in one minute."

"Mossss..."

Moist twitched.

"Mosss...sss..."

"Penny!" Moist shouted back over his shoulder.

When no assuring voice approached him, he turned around to see his day's companion sitting on one of the benches, surrounded by shredded notepaper and scattered clothes. A plastic spork hung out of her mouth as she bent over a piece of paper to scribble on it in mid air.

Moist rolled his eyes. "Still working on that, huh?"

"Yes," Penny said out of the unoccupied corner of her mouth. She glanced about quickly to make sure they were no other customers in the laundromat. "Okay, you ready for this one? Perennial Pain!"

"Ouch," Moist muttered.

"That was the idea, Moist."

"Mos!" Billie added.

Moist's definition of strange: having to accompany Penny on a laundry errand to help look after her daughter Billie. What this was really code for was him looking after Billie  _and_ doing the laundry, while Penny tried to whisk up an application to the Evil League of Evil. He wasn't sure why she had invited him along in the first place all those months ago – or why, for the first few weeks, she lad let him carry the basket of clothes out the door even though they were soon bedraggled from Moist's proximity.

He'd never had to think about anything this weird during his brief stint as Dr. Horrible's right-hand man in the ELE – the reasons for his departure Moist had never been able to reveal to anyone, especially Penny. His...er...retirement from the table had meant slowing down things a little. Such as, taking a post as the head of the Henchmen's Union, which didn't even have a proper building. Just some random basement with a never ceasing lack of ink for the making of the bi-weekly newsletter.

It had a coffee machine, though, so that was a bonus.

"Perennial Pain...I don't know, Pen..." Moist said hesitantly.

"Too alliterate?" Penny asked.

"No, just...what's your power and/or gimmick supposed to be, again?"

"Still working on that."

Moist looked seriously at his unofficial niece for a moment. Her blue eyes were solemn. She nodded. He nodded back. "Maybe you should work on that first, then the name. And what's your plan anyway? World domination? Torture?"

"Social change?"

"Um..."

"It worked for Billy!" she exclaimed.

Billie leaned over, reaching with one arm for her mother. Moist was more than happy to foist the terrible two-year-old back on Penny. Watching her curl back the girl's blonde hair behind her ears, Moist smiled and tucked his hands into his pockets. Strange, domestic, whatever – he didn't mind hanging out with the two main women in his life – sad as that was.

Come to think of it, he saw more of them than Billy these days. The only times he clapped eyes on his ex-friend were usually on the front page of some newspaper – and there were goggles involved, so he only really saw hair, a nose and a mouth. The red outfit was still strange to take in, a development that had occurred after they had parted ways.

Moist suddenly felt depressed.

"I'm sure you'll think of something," he supplied.

Penny smiled back at him. "I'm sure too. It's all to do with timing. But what about you? How's the Union going?"

"You asked me that last week."

"Well, I'm asking again."

"Uh, well we had a little supply problem in the stationary division and then someone we rejected for the Union blew up our photocopier. They've since applied for the League..."

"Wow. That's kind of scary."

"Yeah the newsletter was one day late. The editor has been bugging me for extra henchmen security on the new photocopier. Problem is, everyone wants in. Like that counts for evil hours."

Penny laughed lightly and set aside the paper, full of scribbled would-be aliases and just as many heavy lines crossing them out, before giving her full attention to her daughter. Or so Moist assumed – which is why her next line of attack surprised him.

"He misses you, you know," she said, green eyes needling him.

"He said that?" Moist responded in disbelief.

"Well, no," Penny admitted, looking away and hiding her expression with a careful flick of her red hair. "Actually, he hasn't said a lot in a while. I mean, he's probably just busy. And it'd be dangerous if too many people saw us visiting him, you know? But I wish someone would tell me what happened between you two."

"Penny, I..."

"MOS!"

"Dryer's stopped," Penny noted wryly.

Moist turned and sighed. Socky was in plain view and there would be no rest until Billie had her one precious sock. The rumour was that the sock had begun life on one of Pink Pummeller's feet, before his name change and outfit update. That was another one that Moist saw less and less of. It was much harder to gain an audience with The Pummeller. And it was even more problematic to do so without being thrown right through a wall.

No one had been more surprised than Pink P when he had finally grown into his punching power heritage. His grandmother had even given him a new set of gloves to mark the occasion. This development had made The Pummeller's appointment to the ELE less controversial than Moist's, a decision for which Dr Horrible had been lambasted by jealous villains who continually wondered why they hadn't thought to blow up the League and replace them entirely.

Moist walked slowly to the dryer, thinking. It wasn't like life sucked or anything. He had friends and he even had his own henchmen, kind of. He had a job. He had a place to live. The only things he didn't have were a girlfriend, a cure to his moisture problem...and his old friend.

Three metres from the dryer, the floor beneath Moist's feet rumbled.

Two metres away, he heard the screaming.

One metre – he was swinging around.

And the windows exploded.

* * *

Somewhere across town, a phone rang. Next to the phone, a pair of legs clad in skinny-jeans hung over the edge of a sofa. A head appeared, comprised of a tangle of wild dark brown hair and the very grumpy sort of expression that one might sport after being rudely woken from a power-nap one minute too early.

Wanda Plenn bent over her legs with difficulty and picked up the phone. "What? Johnny, I'm really tired. I don't want to hear it. Why should I turn on the news?"

She slipped a hand between the cushions of the sofa and extracted the remote, flicking on the television. Immediately, images of burning cars, broken shop windows and screaming people blurred across the screen. Wanda rubbed her forehead.

"You'd think they'd let us have one day off," she murmured. "The ELE need to stop working the weekends. Alright, give me a sec. I'll go find Hammer. Is there any reason for this attack? Are they robbing anyone? You don't know. Okay, fine. Fine. I'll meet you at that frozen yoghurt place.  _Bye_ Johnny. No I don't care what you wear."

Wanda rolled off the sofa and hurried into her bedroom. Two minutes later, the heroine Splendour darted out of the room, adorned in a garish sparkly blue leotard complete with painful green lycra leggings and equally offensive boots (bonus silver glitter sprinkled about the heels). It was kind of cheesy, but the kids loved it.

Splendour took root on the window sill, looked down and briefly baulked, then sprang off into the air.

 

* * *

Shards of glass and someone's lacy unmentionables went flying past. Moist spun and ducked as quickly as he could, but felt some nasty pieces of the Coin Wash windows embed themselves in his scalp. Grimacing, he poked his head up and looked frantically around for Penny and Billie. If Dr. Horrible ever found out that he'd been unable to protect them like a henchman should...

He saw them crouched in the next row of washers. They looked shaken up, but apparently not badly hurt. Briefly, Moist allowed the kind of compacted sigh that would have been far more enjoyable in a longer time than three seconds. He skittered along the floor, nicking the palms of his hands on broken glass as he went, and slumped beside Penny.

"So this is new for me," Moist muttered. "Is it new for you?"

"Take Billie," Penny instructed.

Blinking in confusion, Moist looked down at the toddler now perched in deathly silence on his lap. He wondered, with some despair, how she knew to keep so quiet. Then again, she was the daughter of an evil, mad, powerful, pie-like genius – maybe this wasn't so new for the girls after all. Moist supposed it was a good thing the media had no idea that Dr. Horrible had any sort of progeny...or his enemies, for that matter.

Pulling down the sleeves of the stretchy grey shirt that she wore under her dress, Penny wound the fabric through her fingers to protect them as she pulled herself along on her knees to the end of the row. Strands of red hair swung from behind her ears as she peered around the corner to the street beyond.

"There's a lot of people running," she noted. "But I don't see...I know that Billy wasn't planning anything – I'm sure he wasn't."

Moist nodded emphatically to no one in particular, knowing anything he said would betray the fact that he knew nothing. The girl on his lap scraped her teeth over her bottom lip as she met his eyes with blue defiance. So she wasn't scared – that was fine, because Moist was scared enough for all three of them.

"Mos," she said, very quietly.

Moist injected some bravado into his trembling voice. "Yeah, I'm here and Penny's here – so we're all good."

"Socky," the girl insisted, louder.

"You can have one of mine. You don't mind if it smells of mould, do you?"

The skin around Billie's forehead creased briefly, then her eyes slid downwards. She tipped one finger against his bloody palms and Moist winced when he saw the dark red smudge smothering her fingerprint. Hurriedly, he grabbed the bottom hem of his shirt and wiped both their hands.

"Penny, um, is everything okay?" Moist asked, realising that his friend was crouched almost preternaturally still.

He couldn't be sure from that angle, but he could swear he saw her eyes widen. It was also very easy to see the tears rending her jeans but Moist couldn't figure out if they were torn from the glass or if it was done on purpose. It was kind of the style.

"I..." Penny petered off, slowly sliding backwards along the floor. "I'm...I think we should get out of here."

"Well, I don't think just any laundromat would have a secret exit, Pen."

"This one does," she flipped at him without even meeting his eyes.

Moist gawked but managed to follow her back-wrenching scuttle along the floor to a grounded dyer tucked exactly into the corner. An out-of-order sign scribbled in permanent marker was splashed across the front. For Moist, the journey was difficult because he had to hold Billie wrapped underneath him to his chest and she was no longer small enough to play any games that involved her using him as her personal monkey bars. Unfortunately, Moist was the sort of monkey bar that made fingers lose their grip entirely. It was torture, trying to keep Billie from slipping and he was losing that battle.

Too embarrassed to interrupt Penny while she ripped the sign off the dryer and then began to pry open the door, Moist pulled himself along with one raw hand and then attempted to fall in relief against a washer when he made it – only to slip sloppily sideways, nearly bringing Billie down with him anyway.

"Are you okay?" Penny asked, resting a hand on Moist's shoulder.

Moist offered a wobbly smile. "Enough ink to print a month's supply of newsletter would make it okay. But it'd probably be a good idea if you carried Billie. I'm not the best choice for that."

She accepted this with a nod and gathered her daughter in her arms before squeezing herself into the dryer and then into a tunnel in the back that Moist would never have bothered to search for.

"Um, am I following or do you want me to hang here?"

Penny made a sound that may have been an exasperated laugh. Her shoes shook, at any rate. "Moist, get in here."

"Is it far?" Moist asked worriedly.

"Okay, I get that this is uncomfortable for you but, trust me, you'll have a much easier time getting through here with your moisture power."

He grimaced. "It's more of a social problem than a power but um... yeah. I'm following."

Flattening his shoulders and ducking his head against his sternum, Moist slapped his palms inside the dryer and heard them squish. His shoulders greased their way in a second or so later. He sighed and scrabbled his fingers ahead a foot or so and pulled himself in after Penny. Maybe this wasn't so bad, even though the noise was getting closer outside in the street. It could be a riot or something (the ELE was known to host such events to remind everyone that they were continuing to lurk in the shadows), but the occasionally booming sounds that signalled something worse were painfully more clear when echoing inside a metal tube.

"Moist?" came Penny's concerned voice from further down.

"Just give me a – aungh!"

Strong hands clamped over Moist's ankles and ripped him from the escape route. Crushed against the floor with pinpricks of glass doing their worst to cushion him, Moist could only stare up in disbelief as his assailant bent almost at the waist to inspect him more closely. Dark, deep eyebrows formed sharp lines that dug into the top rim of small crusted silver goggles with completely black lenses. Thin lips formed an unimpressed parallel line with the tips of the electronic sideburns that footed the scientist's face. The sweater vest and shirt looked as impeccable as ever, though the tie was tattered and apparently bitten in some places.

"Aren't you kind of dead?" Moist supplied when words finally agreed to come back to him – along with his heartbeat.

"Death is an obstacle to which I do not intend to be a party."

"Oh. Okay." Moist floundered, wriggling his shoulders against sharp glass. "You look good anyway."

His interrogator bared straight, boxy molars in the furthest corners of a fleshy mouth. "Now, where does that tunnel come out?"

Moist bit his lip and forced a deep frown. He wanted to give Penny and Billie as long as possible to get out of there, so pretending to stall might actually work as well as stalling. That's when he caught a whiff of the smell.

He gagged and his mouth popped open.

Clustered around his position on the floor, moaning and swinging their limbs above him but never touching their creator, the mutant zombies stared through him instead of at him. This was a tiny, bizarre relief because Moist was sure they would do far worse than drool if they really truly saw him. Patches of splintered bone popped from the occasional shoulder or knee, but it was the ghastly colour of the skin that disturbed Moist the most. Dirty, yellowed paper sprang to mind – though Moist would have snatched even the mustiest document to sniff instead of lying in the direct path of the horrid pong of the undead.

Moist doubted that the scientist noticed, nor cared, about the state of his minions.

"I surmise that you know a good deal less than the Doctor's whore," Professor Normal intoned. "Never matter. I will make you speak. Not about secret tunnels, perhaps, but you will speak of other things."

Panicked, Moist tried to expunge Billie from his mind. So maybe mind reading had never been an officially listed power of Professor Normal's, but that didn't mean he couldn't have picked it up in the afterlife. Then he realised that if Normal knew about Penny, he'd probably know about Billie too – but what if he didn't? And what if he suddenly did because Moist was thinking about it?

Professor Normal's expression remained frozen. Moist drew a breath through his mouth (the nose option was somewhat out of the question by this point) and rushed it back out.

"Sure, what can we talk about? I'm the um...the head of the Henchmen's Union. We have openings if anyone wants to..." Moist flicked his eyes around the very cramped skyline of zombie faces and silent washers. "It requires a written test. Well, it's multiple choice but you have to use a pencil and some of you might not...yeah. Maybe not."

"I see I should not bother here. Kill him."

Rows of needle-teeth shot out of receding gums and they lunged for him. Moist threw up his hands and closed his eyes tight, fearing the onslaught even more than his previous land lady.

Moments later, he heard multiple loud, sludgy thumps. A garrotted groan of protest rose so high it shook the glass around his ears. Moist peeled open his eyes and gaped around at the sopping collection of zombies, incapacitated into a heap that could only be described as an undead slushie. This was a little unexpected – slightly more so than the sudden sight of Professor Normal being held up by his throat against a line of dryers that dutifully shook off their brackets from the force of a mighty hammer.

Moist did his best to look invisible.

"Dammit, Johnny, you said your ice beam wasn't going to shoot water again," berated a woman.

"The cooling unit must be broken," grated a voice that Moist was unfamiliar with, though the excusing tone was one he had once heard often from Billy.

Lifting his head to sneak a better view, Moist froze when he saw the back of a dark shirt – it could have been any kind of shirt, except that it was paired with gloves and boots. Stunned that the hero was still alive, and apparently still capable of beating up villains, Moist kept his expression blank and his breathing very shallow. He failed to mask his presence when one of Johnny Snow's thick ugg boots planted itself on his rib cage. Moist oofed in complaint. The second boot was not an accident.

"Innocent bystander, Johnny!" the woman hissed – Moist noticed she was dressed in very bright shades of colour and it hurt to look at her for too long.

"Professor Normal!" Captain Hammer said in surprise. "I see your trip to Hades bore unexpected fruit for you, but lucky for me I can squish fruit."

A cruel, disturbing grin sliced up either side of Professor Normal's face. He curled the fingers of both hands into claws and scratched down hard on his attacker. Howling in indignant pain, Hammer dropped him and cowered behind a row of washers. Splendour rolled her eyes and zipped through the air to pounce on top of the recovering Professor, pinning him with a pincer grip on his wrists.

"I doubt you are able to  _squish_ , as you put it, even a miniscule ant without feeling the agony of human pain rising like a rash between your toes," Normal announced studiously, as though they were all attending a lecture. "Otherwise the question must be asked – why has your hideous visage not been paraded about in the press of late?"

"Just because he can feel pain now doesn't mean a sidekick can't kick your butt!" Splendour declared.

This was news to Moist. It also explained why no one had seen the guy for three years and here he was with a back-up squad. The last time he'd seen Captain Hammer, and also the last time that Moist had ever held a position on the ELE, there had been an audience of screaming mothers and children in Duly Park. And Bil- _Dr. Horrible_  had been using that new ray and everyone assumed it didn't do anything until it flattened Captain Hammer who ran, shouting something incomprehensible...

Carried away with his thoughts, and completely missing the greater part of a taunting match between the heroes and Professor Normal (God, wait until Billy heard about that one), Moist let his head sink to one side, somehow unable to hold it up on his neck. He was so tired...so tired...and he needed a drink...wait, why was he thirsty? After he discarded that thought, his gaze lay lazily among the shivering pile of foul-skinned, pock-marked zombies who started to slowly writhe and wriggle. Moist gulped noisily.

He gestured towards the zombies that were reviving themselves and piped up towards the heroes, "Um, you might – "

"Shut up!" Johnny Snow hurled at him, brandishing his infamous Ice Beam – or a variant of, anyway.

"I'm just saying – "

The heroine swivelled her head in Moist's direction but Professor Normal squirmed and slithered a hand out from under her grasp in an attempt to tear at her costume. Her attention thusly stolen, she pounded down hard with her elbows. A weedy chuckle trickled out of the villain's lips.

"Regale me with the true story of how Captain Hammer lost his powers," he invited. "Or are you unaware? It was his fault."

"Dr. Horrible hurt him – wait, why am I even arguing this?"

"MOVE!" Moist shouted and threw himself in front of the grappling pair.

He threw up his hands again – just to see if it hadn't been his imagination the first time – and a torrent of sticky water escaped him, smacking into the horde and flattening them again. Not wholly surprised, Moist blinked. He staggered. He nibbled his parched tongue. He sat down and patted his now very dry arms and legs. He touched his face and found the only moisture there in the form of one tear leaking from his left eye.

"I don't...don't believe it," he said with a broad, stupid grin.

He passed out.


	2. The Coin Wash Menace ACT II - A Web of Copper Wiring

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Moist finds himself in the company of three heroes who aren't entirely convinced that they should help him.

_Look at me, man. I'm Moist. I mean, at my most badass I make people feel like they want to take a shower. I'm not ELE material.  
_ \- Moist,  _Doctor Horrible's Sing-Along Blog_

* * *

Moist woke to rain coursing down his forehead, his cheeks, his clavicle, his chest and down down to his toes. He knew what it meant, of course, but he kept his eyes shut and willed away reality for a few more seconds. His tongue flapped about his lips, already wet with tears lost in the flow that had never left him since one night alone with a faulty humidifier.

"You're not in the ELE, are you?" probed the woman's voice from nearby.

"No."

 _I was,_ he thought defiantly. Even though his seat had long been held by the probably more deserving assassin Gemini (two-headed and two-armed, with neither head claiming a separate identity), and even though he had left with his shoulders pressed by guilt (shared though it had been with Billy), it was a matter of pride. The seat had been wrapped in thick plastic and the floor wiped by aspiring Renfields whenever the moisture had begun to pool around his feet. The ELE catered for its members' little quirks. Real life not so much.

"Henchmen's Union?"

Moist smiled vaguely and opened his eyes to see someone prettier to wake up to than a creator of mutant zombies. Her brown hair was knotted into two bundles either side of her head and her eyes were a warm and deep green but the kind smile she gave him was as false as the cheerful blue fabric still slapped tight to her torso. Moist chose to shrug nonchalantly. "Yeah. Are you Splendour?"

"The costume kind of gives it away, huh. So why aren't you in the ELE with that kind of power?"

"It just kind of happened," he replied, baffled, then something more important occurred to him. "Professor Normal! Is he...did he..."

Did he escape, wriggle free, run amok, all of the above? Moist was sure anyone would have thought this after the strange few minutes he'd had lying on the floor of the laundromat which is where he wasn't, he realised with a jolt. In fact, his back wasn't throbbing against the coarse-grained glass but snuggled on entirely welcome couch cushions. It was a good deal more comfortable than the scowl that broke through the smile on the woman's face.

"We've locked him up in the Heroes Guild's brig," Splendour allowed. "The police won't know what to do with him."

"Okay," said Moist, unconvinced. "That gives us a head start, I guess."

"Head start?" the heroine prompted.

Moist sealed his eyelids again and thought about the inevitable phone call he had to make to the Evil League of Evil's headquarters to give the villains the head start they would need against an extremely put-out Professor Normal. If Moist guessed correctly, it would not be enough for the Professor to take the mantle of leader he would probably zombify all the current members out of spite.

But this meant delivering his report to Dr. Horrible. Moist wasn't sure how to feel about his old friend. Disbelief was a forerunner, but anger and terror surfaced most often.

"Henchman, remember," Moist deflected as he focused on the lime green kitchen unit behind Splendour.

Moist guessed he wasn't badass enough to be taken to the Guild along with Professor Normal. Judging by his surrounds, the heroes had taken him back to one of their apartments. No Ice Beams were present, but that didn't mean anything. His eyes travelled back to Splendour's face.

"Professor Normal is a villain," she was saying. "I figured anyone on your side would have a lot in common. World domination, looting, plundering... murdering children."

Moist jerked violently and rolled off the lounge.

"Did I touch a nerve?" Splendour asked coldly.

"That was three years ago and it wasn't me, it was Dr. Horrible," he gasped into the floor.

She crouched beside him, a genuine puzzled frown tweaking her lips into a less angular line. "What are you talking about? You're just a henchman."

Moist gritted his teeth. "I wasn't  _then_ , okay? Am I a prisoner or can I go and..."

"Give your precious Doctor a head start?" Splendour supplied. "Well, see I don't particularly mind where you snivel off to but Johnny wants to interrogate you."

"What's Captain Hammer going to do?" Moist asked curiously.

She winced and her eyes went skyward that was all the answer Moist needed. He'd thought the ray must have humiliated or even stripped powers from Hammer but never did he expect that it kept him invincible while giving him the due pain to each wound.

"Yeah, he's not looking good these days is he..." Moist mused.

"And the thing that upsets him most is losing his groupies."

Both laughed, then halted immediately when they realised their companionable moment.

"It wasn't hard for him to lose his groupies when everyone saw him fail to stop Dr. Horrible from killing a child," Splendour rejoined, ice shooting from every word. "Duly Park Massacre, anyone?"

Since 'massacre' would require more than one child, Moist felt indignant but the ache spreading through his left and right ventricles silenced his correction. He sat on the couch and bent over his knees. He once again pined for religion, because praying would have been the next step. Breaths wended their way into his lungs and out again.

His inactivity must have bored the heroine or else she had sensed his pain and wished to scrub salt into it because she walked away and tapped on a door, asking for her companion. Johnny Snow, all freckles and accountant's wrinkles though barely older than his supposed archnemesis, stomped over and poked a miniature Ice Beam (more like a pen or a laser pointer) into the tip of Moist's nose.

Moist sighed. "Let me save you guys the trouble. Our side didn't even know that Professor Normal was alive or undead, I guess. I'm not really sure. He's probably a little pissed off."

"He's not the only one," Johnny grated. "What's so important about you that Normal decided you were numerus unus on his hit list?"

Splendour interrupted with a stage whisper, "Numero uno, Johnny. We discussed this."

"It's Roman!" Johnny said hotly.

"No it's La... oh I give up. I'll be getting a cup of joe for Hammer."

Johnny Snow decided to make up for his companion's exit by flicking the mini-Ice Beam between his long, pianist fingers faster than eyes could follow, then he affected a mean expression on his face. The weedy squeak that escaped him the next moment was fast and barely discernible. "Answer the questions, henchman!"

Moist stared at him. "Is that your interrogation voice? It sucks, man."

"You suck!"

"Caudex es," taunted Moist.

"Stultissimus sum!" hurled back Johnny.

The head of the Henchmen's Union smirked. "Yeah um... 'sum' means 'I am', remember?"

The wannabe hero made good use of words beginning with S and F.

"Dammit!" screamed Splendour as she marched back in, Captain Hammer cowering behind her. "Professor Normal escaped. He had an army of those walking corpses bust him out. I don't know how he told them where the Guild was...they would have blindfolded him, too, so for starters he wouldn't have known where to send them..."

"He knows a lot of things," Moist pointed out, mulling over Professor Normal's choice to attack the laundromat.

The heroes all looked at him.

"Like, um, where the Guild is," he amended.

Captain Hammer's eyes, having scanned him with moral disinterest, shifted after a moment and he stared at Moist as though seeing him anew. "I know you. I know you, don't I? I don't forget a face, especially the face of evil. You were with Dr. Horrible at Duly Park."

"Henchman, remember?"

"No, you were doing your own thing. I remember because I wondered what a slimy specimen of the human race, such as yourself, was doing with your own posse of henchmen."

Moist's tenuous position with the heroes suddenly dipped to dire. He coughed. "Um. That was a long time ago."

Splendour's expression went from cautiously pessimistic to downright murderous.

"You  _are_ in the ELE," she accused.

"Duhhh!" exclaimed Johnny.

Moist found himself smiling, though what he really wanted to do was cry. "Three years ago, I retired. I do normal stuff now. Like newsletters. And laundry..."

The smile took on a life of its own as Moist recalled the afternoon he had agreed to help Billy move a disastrous present into the ELE headquarters with a view to appeasing them. They'd barely plugged in the piece of machinery when they'd heard a bang. Running into the meeting room, they'd found piles of ash instead of League members. Dr. Horrible had seized the opportunity. Only Moist, Billy and Penny knew about that afternoon. Dr. Horrible's ascension had been faked and, Moist now suspected, based on the work of another evil genius. He was more astute than Billy had ever given him credit for.

"But none of this answers why Professor Normal went after you..." Splendour reminded him. "Or where he'd go next and that's more important than ever now."

"My apartment maybe," Moist pondered out loud. "I used to live in the apartment next door, right, not that it's really an apartment. More of a box than anything. But I moved in for...a friend. Or Professor Normal'd go for Pe...for innocent bystanders, because he's evil like that. I can't really help unless you let me go. And I'll just ruin your couch. But um...I want to help you. I don't like people dying."

Once upon a time, it had sounded alright to kill a child in Iowa.

Moist shook his head and continued, "It was kind of my fault too, the Duly Park thing. I think it was anyway. I want to make it right."

"You think you can ever give that family their daughter back and make it right?" Johnny demanded incredulously.

Captain Hammer moaned and sank to the floor. Splendour laid a hand on his shoulder, her green eyes having turned flinty when faced with Moist's confession.

"No," Moist replied flatly. "But I can save another little girl. If you'll let me."

The silence invited an explanation.

Moist hesitated. "It's, um, not my story to tell. I think, though, that Professor Normal knows what I know and that's not good. Who would you rather running the ELE Dr. Horrible or Professor Normal?"

Captain Hammer's cheeks hollowed into a pale green. Johnny Snow spluttered.

Wanda Plenn relented.

"I have this old friend," she began with a slow smile. "He has a habit of picking up strays with pasts. If there's anything I've learnt from all him, it's that people who want to change, can change. Henchman, whoever you are, I think I believe you. And when it comes to good and evil, I don't think it matters right now because if you have the means to save a life, then I am on your side."

"But he's  _evil_ ," Captain Hammer said, louder than anyone expected of him. "And his little sob story, I'm not buying it. And St Peter won't buy it when I send you to meet him either."

"More death allegories," Johnny noted in disgust. "Don't you ever think of anything cheerful? Okay, Splendour, but if he does anything evil, I get to freeze his genitalia and shatter them. Sound fair, henchman?"

Moist openly stared at him, his bottom lip dropping low enough to reveal teeth. "You're kidding me, right? Okay, maybe you're not kidding."

"You could be using your power for good," Splendour suggested. "I didn't get the flying thing until I left college so I can understand if this is a little weird."

"It's probably just a fluke anyway."

"Do you want it to be a fluke?"

"Uh, no," Moist replied, frowning as he become aware of a sticky sensation behind his nasal passages.

Hammer's ankles shot up in the air as he slipped on a soggy patch of tacky chartreuse linoleum. He still managed to crook his middle finger above the other four on his left hand mid-fall onto his backside a gesture that no one missed. Johnny swiftly ducked to the floor and centred himself, glaring up at the guilty party.

Moist circled the palm of his hand over his nose vigorously. "What? I can't help it. Well, maybe I could have that time," Moist added quietly for Splendour's benefit.

Wanda Plenn smoothed her grin over with two fingers. Then she reminded herself that this sweaty little man had partially owned up to the responsibility of killing a five-year-old and resumed glaring down at him, though not as potently as she had been.

"What's your name?" she asked.

"Exactly what I am," he said, walking to the door, not caring if they followed him or offered directions to the nearest payphone. "Moist."

* * *

Dispatching twenty or so zombies must have seemed quite the unequivocal task for the inferior heroes for them to assume that there would be no others roaming and awaiting just the right electronic signal to spiral into their brains from devices hooked into their ears. Professor Normal would have smiled if he wasn't in Imitation Mode. How they had laughed at him, the Evil League of Evil, when he had unveiled his plans for mutant zombies. How oblivious they had been when he had started gathering skin fragments, wayward strands of hair and other distasteful samples!

Five years of being locked out of the ELE headquarters by amateurs and five years of eking out his work in a disused mental hospital had merely fanned his desire to strike back at the imposter. That time had not been wasted on foolish pursuits no, he had also discovered the location of those fabled heroes and had fed this information into his children, knowing that they would one day need to know where to find him.

The heroes had given him a chair in a bland grey-walled room. Professor Normal, spine straight and lips flatlining, had perched in the seat and barely said two words to anyone while he occupied it. Nary a twitch was seen on him when the wall caved in at his feet. One of the zombies prostrated there on the immaculate beige floor tiles, which was probably due to it throwing its fetid body at the wall, but it was exactly the kind of response that Normal anticipated for his moments of glory.

Delicately lining up his forefingers and thumbs with the ends of his electronic sideburns, he straightened the device with the aid of memory instead of a reflection. He ignored the flaccid arm that one of his creations lopped out at him in an imitation of offering a helping hand and coasted out through the foyer of the Guild. The bodies of heroes and zombies splattered the floor and the sound of another frenzied battle echoed from nearby.

"I require a vehicle," Professor Normal announced.

The blank stares of his minions took a moment to register with the villain. Shrugging, he performed a quick dip as he walked for the exit, pilfering the wad of keys (and a few hairs) belonging to a downed hero dressed in canary yellow offset with a blue belt. After stowing the precious DNA sample, Professor Normal triumphantly exited the building and stabbed at the unlock button on the chunky car key. He peered around and repeated this trick several times until he found the black people-carrier. Excellent.

His posse fell in behind him. The groaning and wailing was tedious but necessary, he reminded himself as he attempted to start the car.

* * *

See-sawing his body over the edge of the car window, Moist lunged once more for the payphone and smashed two fingers into the last number. The whole exercise was then made entirely useless when his soaked shirt slipped and then dumped him into a pile of limbs and assorted curses on the ground. At least the phone cord gave and stretched to accommodate the direction change.

"I'll need to make another call," Moist spoke up while the ring tone began in his left ear. "Can I get some more change?"

The remaining occupants of the pastel khaki car comprised of his would-be rescuers and gaolers and a pair of fluffy pink dinosaurs hanging from the rear view mirror. Captain Hammer, arranged into the cramped space of the backseat with his knees jabbing hard into his chest, shook his head mutely. The driver, however, rummaged through the glovebox for his learner's permit in a cunning pre-emptive strike against any police who happened to notice the slowly melting black ice trailing behind the parked car (a misfire from the converted tailpipe, apparently) and gave no indication that he'd heard the question.

Splendour rested her underarms on the edge of her open window, peering out at Moist. "I'm running out of silver." She threw her head back in. "Johnny? You have anything?"

"I already told you I don't have any credit!" the boyish hero snapped.

"Yes, we'd like to be using your cell phone and you really should get on a plan," she said flatly. "You also need to learn how not to mount the kerb. But I just want some coins to help out our new friend here."

"Will these help?" Captain Hammer offered, passing over a handful of junk he'd rifled for and found in the cracks of the seat beneath him.

Wanda hesitantly pinched the rounder-shaped objects from his palm, neatly avoiding something long, damp and soiled. Flattening her hand, she counted through the coins and selected three quarters before flicking them out the window. They ended their journey on Moist's ribs, which would have hurt more if he wasn't engrossed in attempting to communicate across a web of copper wires.

On the second shrill ring, the phone was dutifully answered by the Evil League of Evil's automated service which was gifted with a voice too chirpy, harried and androgynous for Moist's liking. He narrowed his eyes in concentration.

"If you think you have even a fraction of the evil required to apply for the Evil League of Evil, please visit the website and follow the prompts. If you have somehow dialled the wrong number and wish to order pizza, press one. If you have received a death threat from the ELE, stop delaying the inevitable and pay the money required. If you would like to speak to a human being or another carbon-based life form press two. If you have swallowed dishwashing detergent by mistake or by misadventure..."

Moist pressed the worn and weathered number two on the phone and briefly wondered if he wasn't the only one to perform an abrupt, skidded stop beside it for exactly this reason.

"You don't want pizza, I take it. Evil League of Evil, how may I be of disservice?" a bored, gravelly voice enquired.

"I need to speak to Dr. Horrible," Moist tried.

Rough, hacking coughs exploded out of the receiver, punctuated by an attempt to regain breath that sounded like a jet engine warming up. "Dr. Horrible is unavailable for comment but a press release has been issued in the usual channels."

"No, I mean, I really need to speak to him," Moist said, raising his eyes to catch the heroes all staring at him unblinkingly. He was reminded eerily of the plastic sheep figurines (and their white, pupil-free eyes) that his mother kept in a cupboard. "This is an emergency."

"Did you try 911?"

"Uh, no?" Moist was honestly stumped by that one. "No wait this is to do with Captain Hammer. Right. Captain Hammer is back and he wants a word...I mean, a showdown with Dr. Horrible."

The corporate tool popped open his mouth in protest. Wanda reached back and slapped a hand over his mouth, cautioning, "You still have your powers, Hammer, so start acting like it!"

"But it might hurt," he complained.

"Oh it will," promised Johnny Snow, glaring back at him.

Splendour sighed. "Johnny, I'm trying to help his self-confidence. You might try saying something nice."

"Why would I do that?" Snow demanded. "If he ever gets his pain-free thing back, then he'll just go back to making fun of me."

Hammer shook his head vehemently, but he probably would have forced Wanda's hand away very quickly if he'd heard the voice on the other end of the phone.

"Captain Hammer is incapacitated," the ELE pleb informed Moist.

"Professor Normal attacked a laundromat and now he's after...after...the head of the Henchmen's Union!" Moist spouted.

"Professor Normal is dead."

The heel of Moist's palm met his forehead and squelched. He muttered, "I don't think I have time for this. Tell Dr. Horrible that Penny and Billie are in danger and that a...reanimated rabbit has them."

"A what?"

"Uh, you'll figure it out." Moist hesitated and considered telling the disembodied voice that he was attempting to use cloak and dagger and codewords. He shook his head at such folly and pulled himself up, slipping all the way, to hang up the phone.

"The League's uh...delayed," he announced lamely.

The car thudded as Johnny slapped the driver's side with his Ice Beam. Plastic and metal cracked ominously down the left of the car's frame as the temperature plummeted. Splendour titled her eyes up through the roof to sky, possibly searching for some sense among the deep royal blue that usually settled in during dusk. Captain Hammer rubbed his bare arms vigorously, but wisely kept his complaints to himself.

Finally, Johnny snapped his hand back inside the car and snorted. "Well, duh. Why should they bother helping? Chaos and riots are just the kind of things they'd enjoy."

Ignoring him, Moist bent over and scooped up the quarters. He fed them into the phone and punched his own number, though only after several long seconds of tracking Penny through a map in his mind's eye that was shaped a lot like New Zealand.

She answered the phone in three rings. "Hello? Moist?"

Moist's fingers slid dangerously close to the cradle and nearly disconnected the call. He whispered frenetically, "Penny, what are you doing there?"

"I'm waiting for you," Penny answered calmly, as though it was entirely normal for her to hide at the apartment rented out by the head of the Henchmen's Union and even more normal for Moist to guess where she'd be. "Are you okay?"

Twisting the cord around his fingers, Moist eyed his companions whose bickering was subsiding enough that they could probably hear him. He shrugged. "Yeah. Look, I've got heroes with me and I can't say a lot. Professor Normal knows, Pen. He knows about you. Maybe even about...socky."

There was a pause as Penny decoded what he meant. Another pause followed as both tried to convince themselves silently that there was no way the villain could have found out about Billie.

"I thought I saw him in the street but I hoped..." Penny's voice became guarded. "So he's not dead."

Moist propped up his arm behind his head, wedging himself into the corner to keep from sliding down. He explained, "He kind of killed the ELE. This means he's badass enough to kill Bad Horse and we're not even in the same league literally, huh."

"Professor Normal...that actually makes sense," Penny said levelly. "Well, more than the washing machine thing."

"Pen, I think you need to get out of there," Moist told her urgently.

"Should I go to my place, because it's a little way across town and I don't have a lot of cash on me for a cab...and Billie hasn't had her nap..."

If Moist had possessed a fraction of Captain Hammer's strength, his grip on the phone would have shattered it. "Get. Out. I'm thinking he knows where I live. He's probably even read my mail."

A sharp intake of breath hit Moist's ear, though it probably wasn't because of the mail statement. Penny let the breath out. "Okay. Can you get a message to him?"

Moist didn't need to ask who she meant.

"I tried that already..." he trailed off.

"Moist, I won't pretend to understand why you left the ELE and why neither of you will even talk to me about it, but this is important. Billy needs to hear this. It's about Cap - "

Long, loud beeps began to echo in Moist's ear. The phone fell between his slackened fingers and struck the faux glass panelling. He dove for it and held it hard enough against the side of his face that his cheekbone throbbed. The sound persisted.

"Penny!" he shouted uselessly.

"I'm pretty sure they don't take pennies anymore, which you'd know if you ever left your evil lair to do some grocery shopping," Captain Hammer pointed out helpfully.

"It's not a lair, I work in a basement," Moist mumbled.

His heartbeat skipped several notes in a bar as he set the phone back in its cradle for the last time. Slowly, dazedly, he clambered into the back seat through the window and even buckled up his seat belt before it occurred to him that A) Professor Normal was most likely at his apartment, B) so too were the mutant zombies and C) he had three powered-up heroes with him heroes who lived by some sort of moral code. Okay, two of them did. Moist still wasn't sure about Johnny Snow.

Moist recited his address out loud. Johnny stared at him.

"Is it a code? I know codes, but this one is kind of new..." Hammer began, eyes bright as his brain started doing things it shouldn't.

Wanda came to Moist's rescue, yet again. "He already told us that we have to get to his apartment, so he just gave us directions Professor Normal is there, right? Because if you're leading me on, Moist, I will tell Captain Hammer that you really are evil and he might even that forget his fists will throb afterwards."

"Not likely," Johnny predicted darkly, no doubt imagining how long he'd have to stuff his fingers into his own ears to block out any diatribes from the precious Captain Hammer.

The ex-famous hero, however, took Johnny's comment as an affirmation of his abilities and beamed around at everyone. This was an acceptable end to the situation.

"Can we go?" Moist ventured, panic riding the bile that entered his mouth.

"Step on it," Splendour instructed her off-sider.

Johnny muttered something.

"No, I don't care if you go four miles over the speed limit!" Wanda hollered.

Spurred on by the insistence of his peers, the icy hero slammed on the accelerator, forgetting his car was stick, thereby treating everyone to angry revving and a very unpleasant smell. After a moment, he managed to force the car off the footpath. He tried to perform a sharp u-turn but the route took him back across the stubbornly solid black ice he'd laid down.

Splendour swore as the car skidded sideways.

And then they slammed into the side of a very large, very in-charge purple car.

Moist had just enough time to register the neon piping on the other car before the collision forced a build up of moisture that spread like an ache through the bones of the front of his face. He didn't dare hold it in. The violent sneeze that followed burned like one of Penny's curries through his nostrils.

Therefore, he wasn't very surprised when a bedraggled Purple Pimp, devoid of his hat, pried himself out of the Pimp Mobile's sunroof and marched over to wave an elongated, intricate lilac weapon which then found its way to Johnny Snow's face.

"What the hell was that?" the Pimp snarled, shadows striping across his face caused by the now illuminated street light above him.

"A complete and utter lack of ABS?" Splendour voiced calmly.

Purple Pimp blinked. His round, mahogany eyes scouted out the rest of the car and he grinned. "Is that you over there, Moist? Did they kidnap you?"

"Uh, I don't think so," Moist replied, wishing the Pimp didn't sound so cheerful at the thought. "It was voluntary."

"You responsible for the waterworks?"

"Apparently."

"So you're finally useful," decided the Pimp before he stuck the barrel of his weapon into Johnny's ear. "Why did you just scrape puke paint all over my car?"

"Penny's in trouble," Moist interjected.

Purple Pimp's psychotic part-angry, part-cheerful smile immediately disintegrated. His large face turned the same shade as his sopping coat as he thought about what Dr. Horrible would do to him if he found out that the Pimp didn't help the Doc's girlfriend out of a jam. Purple Pimp had a lot of respect for Penny and still reckoned that the ELE would be more fierce with her schemes, but that wasn't the priority on his mind.

"Oh damn it," he articulated instead. "The Pimp Mobile will still run so bring all your friends over here, but if you tell anyone that I let Captain Hammer ride with me, I will harvest your right knee cap and use it for my own. I need a new one. So. Get the fuck in the car!"


	3. The Coin Wash Menace ACT III - Do I Even Know You?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Three heroes, one villain and one henchman take on the undead to rescue Penny.

_I deserve to get in. You know I do. But killing? Really?  
_ _Hourglass says she knows a kid in Iowa that grows up to become president. That'd be big.  
_ _I'm not gonna kill a little kid.  
_ _Smother an old lady.  
_ _Do I even know you?_

\- Dr. Horrible & Moist,  _Doctor Horrible's Sing-Along Blog_

* * *

Purple Pimp slammed the first two knuckles on his right hand into the intricate device positioned between his wobbling knees and the stiff, coiled legs of the hero beside him. High-pitched static roared through the cabin, rendering everyone but the perpetrator deaf. A moment later, police chatter began its usual run through the scanner. Captain Hammer smushed himself further against the passenger door in an attempt to either bend the car's frame permanently out of shape or to put more air between him and the driver.

"What the fuck, seriously," the Pimp narrated as he listened to the shouts of various law enforcement officers.

"Uh, what are they saying?" Moist asked, leaning over from the back seat.

"Armageddon. The Easter bunny isn't real. I see dead people." The Purple Pimp idly used the tip of one finger to shift the wheel sideways, which somehow translated into the whole vehicle charging like a bull around a corner. He yawned. "When was Horrible going to tell everyone that Professor Fucking Normal was back?"

Moist blinked. Then he shrugged. It wasn't exactly a secret that Professor Normal had been (and obviously still was) a necrophiliac. The simple deduction was one that anyone could make. Moist pointed out an intersection up ahead but the Pimp Mobile was already swinging towards the right direction.

"Are you afraid of him?" Splendour questioned through clenched teeth.

Deep, gouges from her nails bit angrily into the arm of Johnny Snow beside her, but he was too busy holding in the unwise chicken kebabs he'd had for lunch to complain. His face was slack enough that the minute lines of stress he carried on his face were smoothed out. Purple Pimp turned bodily in the driver's seat to stare back at Wanda. Various pedestrians leapt out of headlights until Moist grabbed the steering wheel.

"Do you have any idea what Normal will do to me if he finds out I supported Doctor Horrible?" Purple Pimp demanded. "I wouldn't be seeing dead people, bitch, I'd  _be_ a dead person."

Apparently remembering his duties as a licence-carrying motorist, he batted Moist's arm away, flicked beads of moisture off the wheel and resumed tearing up tar. Captain Hammer thought this would be the perfect moment to start his comeback. "But that would be a good thing. Too long have villains terrified the good citizens of this city and too long they have suffered in ignorance because I have been banned from giving interviews..."

"Hammer, shut up," Wanda ordered.

"He's got a point," Johnny said sullenly, also regaining himself. "We shouldn't be feeling sorry for this dude and we shouldn't be helping the moisture guy."

"Johnny, shut up," she reiterated. "If you say another word about why we should not be helping people, I will tell the Guild just how bad you are at this and they will permanently apprentice you to Hammer."

Johnny ducked his head so that his tattered brown mane fell around his face. He was probably hoping to make it look like he was hiding a scowl, but Moist was able to make out a pout behind the curtain of the hero's hair.

Purple Pimp flicked two fingers of an eyebrow and murmured to Moist, "Conflict Diamond's sister?"

"Not that I know of," Moist replied, squinting as the sickly throb returned behind his face. "But, um, you never know, right?"

Tires squealed, metal buckled and a bin went flying from the bonnet to the boot. The twin clangs were evidence of that. Moist discovered that he could in fact hold in his wayward power, though it required a complicated system of making his face collapse inwards without triggering a sneeze. He also discovered that he would have preferred an airbag to the lap of the only woman in attendance. The glare was enough of a warning for him. He slipped to the floor very quickly.

"Oh fuck," the Pimp announced.

Splendour sighed. "What now?"

The handbrake growled as it was ripped skywards. Purple Pimp whistled between his front teeth. "We'll have to park here."

"You parked in  _garbage_ ," Captain Hammer felt compelled to point out, wrinkling his nose though no one else could discern any smells.

"That's one of the things that can't hurt you," Johnny reminded him.

"I haven't tried touching garbage yet. I didn't even do that  _before_. Unless you count Doctor..."

Wanda shot up a hand on the right side of her face, shielding herself against any further comments from her team mates. She smiled tightly. "Traffic?"

"Kind of," Moist answered, massaging his burning sinuses as he peered out the windshield. "Do mutant zombies count? I mean, they are taking up the road."

Purple Pimp made circles out of his thumbs and forefingers and slammed them over his onyx eyes as he scanned the seething mass of dead people roaming the road. He grumbled a few choice obscenities before noting hopefully, "Ah, I see one knee cap that is slightly less decomposed than the other ones on offer..."

Splendour paused, gauged the happy expression on the chauffeur's face, then managed, "Gross."

"Some of us can't regenerate our lost body parts," Pimp told her, scowling. "Is that your power, sweeeetie?"

"I can't believe I'm going to say this, but can you go back to calling me bitch?"

Multiple outbursts may have occurred if Moist hadn't chosen that moment to lunge over and worked on the door in the backseat. His hand slid right off the handle, but on the second attempt he drew the moisture back up to his personal naval storage tanks (this seriously couldn't be good for his health in the long run) and opened the door a crack. This fostered a brief whiff of escape.

Panicked, Johnny performed a tackle worthy of Thomas Sullivan Magnum and lugged Moist back in with his arms around the henchman's waist.

"I'm going – Penny needs me," Moist snapped.

"Penny?" chorused the heroes.

The Pimp's hands slipped from his face and swung back around to support his neck. The corners of his lips drooped, but a rogue light appeared in the depths of his eyes. "Well, Moist, I'd like to say it's been nice knowing you, but it really hasn't. Same to you hero-people. And Johnny Snow, you will be paying for the scrapes to my car. If we live, that is."

"What?" Wanda asked incredulously, catching on to where this was going.

"Obviously, I'm about to get my fucking head knocked off my shoulders in Moist's crazy attempt to rescue that fine, fine woman," Purple Pimp explained for the benefit of anyone not currently inhabiting his thought plane. "Can you just wait a second while I straighten up the Pimp Mobile? I do not want another damn parking ticket. I'm evil but I'm not swimming in the dough."

Two minutes later, five silhouettes hit the wall behind the car. These shadows melted to give away for the very solid, very vulnerable flesh-and-bone creatures who marched through the red lighting that pervaded the district towards the horde of undead.

"Are you going to be okay, Hammer?" Wanda probed discreetly.

The hero's chin elevated by about four feet and he said importantly, "You see this hair? Not a single strand will be out of place by the time we find this Penny. And if my hair isn't perfect, then everyone else will be dead but I'll have time to comb it before I do something about everyone else being...well, you know."

Shaking her head, the heroine turned on Johnny. "I'm putting a lot of faith in that beam of yours. You need to freeze them before I hit them or I'm going to bounce instead of them shattering."

"I love you and I think you're amazing," Snow blurted.

"No, Johnny, I don't care if you...huh? You what?"

Johnny Snow decided that he shouldn't repeat his declaration of love and marched ahead with the Pimp who was sporting enough not to jostle the Ice Beam. Well, not more than once anyway. Wanda thought very briefly of how many times she'd heard the L word from a guy and inwardly sighed. She kind of hoped they wouldn't survive the onslaught, because the awkward factor was going to ruin the team's dynamics.

"Moist, can you use your power?" she said out loud.

"Well, uh, I guess you should define 'use'," Moist responded unsmilingly.

"Aim with only a short margin of error?"

"Uh, no," he admitted.

Wanda utilised a wobbly grin. "We'll be fine. Good luck, everyone."

"Luck?" the Purple Pimp chortled. "We need a fucking miracle. Now shut up so I can concentrate."

He drew elongated pistols from his belt and dragged the bright purple barrels over each opposing arm, making them whirl as if they were old fashioned revolvers. They were his own design and, despite the six-shooter appearance, they were semi-automatic. He nonchalantly fired one into the air. Several dozen pairs of eyes and many more dozens of empty eye-sockets swivelled over.

"Okay, you can take the first few hundred on your side," Moist muttered.

"That's mighty kind of you, Moist," the Pimp drawled and started blasting.

The zombies took some offence to having lead rip through masses of belching organs and softened cartilage – as anyone would if they were alive, dead, undead or something in between. Naturally, they expressed their displeasure by forming a roaring pack of outstretched arms and thundering legs. Splendour sprang off the road as though it were a trampoline and sailed through the air with some serious hang time.

Johnny Snow managed to arrange his priorities so that protection ranked over adoration. A jagged line of ice cracked from his weapon, freezing the front line in their tracks. Some of the zombies behind them crashed through their compatriots and crumpled onto the road before scrambling back up. Splendour showed the remaining ice sculptures exactly what she thought of them with two sure feet.

Meanwhile, Captain Hammer picked up multiple zombies by either the scruffs of their necks or any other available hand hold. He tossed one or two backwards so that Moist had to duck, but generally the hero seemed to be clearing a path as he waded forward.

Blam-blam-blam. The Pimp's contribution involved him running ahead alongside the corporate tool and leaping around to guard Hammer's back with precise, painful pings from his weapons. If anyone hadn't been too busy to look closely, they would have wondered how someone as stocky as the Pimp could move so damn fast. A neighbour peering out from a nearby window may have thought so, but it is likely they too were occupied with the epic battle as a whole. Or they were checking the weather. Either one.

By this point, Moist realised he hadn't moved by so much as an inch. And, well, the whole thing was his idea, so it occurred to him that he should do something.

Moist held out his hand and sneezed. Nothing happened. If at first you don't succeed, try not to look too embarrassed while your companions are kicking undead butt. He actually had no idea why he'd thought it would work. Nothing ever worked out for Moist, not since his father had left him  _alone_ and Billy had left him  _alone_ and –

A jet stream of phlegm-like liquid burst from his palm and burrowed through the midsection of four zombies who were in line. Beaming down at his fingers for a moment, Moist surged up to the heroes, keeping pace with Johnny Snow. Where the ice missed, room-temperature water made up for it by turning a potential brain-eater into a sodden mess.

"Holy shit, this is fun!" exclaimed the Pimp, whipping his right arm 180 degrees over to his left to deliver a double-shot defence against one lipless zombie.

Wanda fell from the heavens to crush the moaning menace on his blind right, reducing it to frigid slivers. "I don't quite...agree!"

Both heroine and not-hero hit the tarmac as Captain Hammer threw a punch too close to their heads. Happily, Hammer managed to decapitate only those who no longer used their synapses for normal things like coveting a neighbour's donkey instead of their brains. Splendour was the first up, performing a levitation-aided kick to smack up the chin of a nearby zombie. Its head flopped backwards but failed to shatter. Two hands searched for Wanda's skull.

"JOHNNY!" she growled.

"Need help, bitch?" the Pimp enquired, spraying bullets over the squishy neck of her assailant.

Moist and Johnny caught up in time for the latter to start smashing his useless Ice Beam over the zombie's knees, felling the headless corpse completely. Johnny swung the device around in a perfect batter's stance, mostly hitting air but once or twice hitting an actual member of the deceased, who collapsed into a quivering pool of refuse.

"Did you have to get the fucking kneecaps?" howled Purple Pimp, but he was grinning like the mad man he undoubtedly was.

Then there were five human beings, standing at an intersection in the dimmest patch of road. The red street lights burned ever on around them. No one stirred. Moist swallowed profusely, working moisture back into his mouth. The glugginess in his face had subsided completely, but he didn't feel...empty yet, and sporadic drops of moisture still lazily peeked from the tips of his fingers. He shrugged off his jacket and tossed it to the side. Shivers skittered down his arms.

Captain Hammer held up one gloved hand, his eyes slowly wending from side to side. "It's too quiet, which means we're about to have a little more company. Of the dead variety. And they won't be capable of begging for mercy, which is exactly what we want."

"Is it?" Wanda asked dryly.

"How're the hands, Hammer?" Pimp prompted, smirking.

Horror widened Captain Hammer's eyes and he glanced down at his hands, shaking them thoroughly. He bit his lip and a moan of belated pain snuck past the adrenalin. Johnny Snow cleared his throat. "Don't listen to him, okay. One, he's one of the bad guys – who isn't killing us right now – and two, you're taking out ten times more zombie things than any of us are."

Wanda and Moist exchanged blinks and, as a result, both missed the hopeful baby blues that Johnny Snow turned towards his beloved. He was not to find out if his attempt at maturity had won the heart of the fair maiden, because Purple Pimp hacked back a large gob of spit. "Zombies approaching. Again. Isn't that just lovely?"

Approximately thirty metres away, the steps leading up to the door of Moist's apartment block swam in bloody light. Twenty metres away, a tightly-packed mass of zombies started shuffling forward in organised lines. The cream of the crop possessed many intact limbs, swivelling eyeballs and extra sharp nails. One even wore a hot pink cap with the words 'Cabbages and Condoms' emblazoned on the front.

"Almost there," Wanda commented, stretching her arms over her head.

"Still no cigar," Johnny groused as he inspected his useless beam. "I uh...uh...might have to hang back."

"Or not," said Moist, indicating the horde sneaking up behind them.

Snow's eyes hardened and his wrinkles etched deep lines of determination. He hefted the Ice Beam. "Three bases loaded. Home run. As for you, henchman – you're our long range weapon now."

"Oh shut the fuck up and let's get Penny," the Pimp said and barrelled ahead.

Where one sheep goes, the others follow. Moist immediately wished he hadn't thought of his analogy, particularly when he thought he heard a zombie baaaa up ahead. Flashing two palms out wide on both sides, he realised how easy it was to release the pent up accumulation of moisture and anguish of years past. Deafened to moans, groans or shouts of triumph, he watched his companions. Purple Pimp, lacking a patch of his moustache and gleefully shouting, worked in tandem with the heroes almost instinctively...until Johnny clipped him with his self-styled bat, which forced a wide shot to take out the nearby light.

One step forward, two steps forward...Moist felt his knees sinking, felt his pace slowing.

His tongue suddenly detached from the roof of his mouth and it hurt. This was the first real warning, though the second was far more concerning. Every last non-essential drop of moisture expunged itself from the henchman and he fell to his knees, gasping. Sucking hard on his tortured tongue in an attempt to kickstart saliva, and failing at it, Moist mused in defeat, "Well that sucks."

Nails tore through them hem of the neck of his shirt, then into the malleable flesh behind his head. Moist walked frantically in mid-air for a few moments before he realised that a heroine had come to his rescue.

"Not bad for your first fight," Wanda shouted down at him. "You're a natural. You'll have a place in the Guild when all this is over."

"Uh, do you mean that?"

"Maybe! But let's rescue your friend first."

Moist's face came into contact with the door to his block. He threw out a hand and slapped the buzzer. Remarkably, the door gave and he fell forward. Four others tumbled in after him and a loud thump echoed as wood met frame once more. Moist peered up through the gloom, spotting the single light bulb hanging from the ceiling first, and the peppery brown, slightly windswept head of his landlady sticking out of her room second.

"Is that you, Moist?" she bellowed nasally.

He flinched guiltily. "Uh, about last month's rent – "

"Yes, we'll get to that – but first, a noise complaint. You haven't made this much of a racket since your horrible little friend was around. Ooh is that Captain Hammer? If I'd've known you brought that stud I'd have worn more than this filthy dressing gown. Rent under my door tomorrow. If you're alive. If you're dead, could you at least send a friend to finish the payments?"

Her head whisked back out of sight. Momentarily stunned, the rescuers attempted to get to their feet. Johnny gallantly held out a hand for Wanda, who eyed him cautiously before accepting the offer. She covered the approaching awkwardness by observing, "The Ice Beam is sparking again, Johnny. Do you think it will work?"

"Where is this Professor Normal?" Clearly, Hammer's priorities were set. "I need to introduce his face to my fists. I'll even let one of you hold him down."

Purple Pimp leaned against a wall and blew out of a breath. "Alright, fuckers, I can't go any further. If Normal sees me, or whatever, then I'll have some epic issues after all of this."

"That's okay," Moist said, nodding at him. "You've done heaps, man. If you ever need a henchman, I can recommend a few."

"I can only recommend one," Pimp countered blandly, sliding to the floor where he flicked out a motoring magazine from his tattered coat and began reading avidly.

Unsure how to take the compliment, Moist pushed the indigo villain from his mind and turned to his original helpers. He shrugged helplessly then pointed out the door. Captain Hammer slipped fingers behind his ears to ensure that his hair was not wayward, as promised. Johnny Snow copied the action one-handed, for whatever reason.

Wanda Plenn held out her hand for Moist's keys, which she interned in the door. Glancing back at her companions, she pulled on the knob.

At first, Moist could only see the wheely chair thrust into the corner and Penny as its occupant, held fast with cable ties looped around the dexterous points on each limb. Her usually neat hair frizzled like an aura around her head and her knuckles were white, though her green eyes were thin and aimed directly at the man holding her daughter hostage.

Professor Normal stood just beyond the radius of spitting distance, one arm straight against his side and the other jostling Bille against him. His struggle to contain his prisoner and to school his usual countenance resulted in him waving side to side as though in some sort of ethereal breeze. Normal wrinkled his nose distastefully when Billie called out, "Mos! Bad man."

"I see I need not introduce you two," Normal began leisurely. "But this is an introduction the Guild would surely never pass up. This is the progeny of Doctor Horrible."

"You mean someone saw him naked?" Captain Hammer asked, genuinely horrified.

Johnny snorted with laughter, then choked it off. Wanda threw a less-than-pleased look at Moist who didn't even bother to affect an air of innocence. He was way past that now.

"Penny, are you okay?" he asked.

Her lips twitched. "No. Not really. Moist, please do something."

"Do something?" echoed Professor Normal, whose lips cracked painfully upwards. "His actions do not factor into my plans anymore. He contacted the ELE, as I required, and soon Doctor Horrible will fall prey to his biggest weakness...love."

"All you need is love," Johnny Snow added, which invoked frowns from various parties, especially the heroine beside him.

Moist consciously chafed his dry palms together. By unspoken mutual agreement, the would-be rescuers stood their ground in a loose line in front of the door. The heat on Moist's back could have been from three death glares, but he hoped it was because he was inside insulated walls. Regardless of whether or not his power was fuelled, he raised a hand and curled his fingertips forward.

"Right, we got through the mutant zombies," Moist said carefully. "So it's just you against four of us."

Professor Normal's gaze alighted behind the henchman and his smile broadened. "While I am not surprised that the Guild has sent representatives to retrieve me, I do find it spectacularly odd that you should choose to work with the head of the Henchman's Union – a useless, disgusting specimen whose claim to greatness was snivelling at the feet of that imposter."

Hammer unfroze and swung up his fists. "We're here to arrest you and take you to a padded room which we'd usually reserve for Fake Thomas Jefferson, but he's been dead for five years and that's how you'll be...in five years."

"Oh do be quiet and stand against the wall or something equally as useful," Normal instructed. "I will snap this child's neck if you come any closer."

"Don't you dare," Penny warned.

Meekly obeying the villain, Captain Hammer linked his hands together to keep them from swinging. His face tore between righteously motivated and hopelessly indignant.

"Dammit, an impasse," Splendour breathed. "Johnny, is your..."

"Sort of."

"Fire!" she commanded.

Penny's eyes saucered. "Wait, no – "

Swinging around on the chair, Penny jerked forward but the wheels caught on the floor and she tipped sideways. Her eyes remained open but unfocused and her lips pursed and unpursed very gradually. Moist forgot all sense and hurried to her side, brushing tangled red hair off her face. He looked up to see the immobile statue of Professor Normal and briefly enjoyed the surprise chiselled between the electronic sideburns. Billie's terror was also still evident, mouth frozen wide open. Moist studied his 'niece' long enough to discern the tiny icicles on her eyelashes before he stood up and advanced on Johnny Snow.

"I had to do it," Johnny deflected, which is as far as the fight went because the door smacked open.

Filing in were numerous henchmen that Moist recognised, all of them looking at the floor or the walls and doing little else. At the head of the mob was the acknowledged leader of the Evil League of Evil, adorned in a sheen of red material and masked by goggles that the media paraded on their front pages. A nasty angular device was draped over one arm and bore the boastful engraved words "Death Ray".

Hammer cracked fists together and spread his feet apart to lower his centre of gravity. He tilted his head to the side to catch one half of his face in the shadow from the overhead light. Johnny swished the Ice Beam behind his back and kept it there, smiling vacantly. Moist quickly put himself between the heroes and his old friend, though Wanda moved forward, balancing on the balls of her feet.

"He was holding her hostage," Moist explained hurriedly. "We couldn't, you know, do anything because of that. Penny's okay, though."

Empty lenses turned towards him. "Why would that stop me from firing the Death Ray? She's just collateral."

Moist's heart skipped several beats and an overwhelming wave of hot tingles swarmed from head to toe. He started speaking the words before he realised they weren't even his own. "Man...do I even know you?"

"Be quiet, minion."

Not 'evil moisture buddy'. Not even 'that guy who used to be my right-hand-man'.  _Minion_. Moist recalled with regret how he'd once admonished Billy for calling him anything else. He started when he felt Wanda's hand on his elbow, her touch quietly drawing him back towards the heroes.

"Now would be a good time to have a Freeze Ray," Captain Hammer announced loudly and aimed a huge wink at his off-sider.

"It's an Ice...well, you make a good point, my esteemed colleague," Johnny Snow acknowledged and flourished his weapon in front of him.

He pulled the trigger. The mechanism stalled. A tiny drop of cold, but clearly not frozen, water hit the floor. Johnny again hid the Ice Beam behind his back, but this time he wasn't smiling.

"Oh look, my supposed arch nemeses," Doctor Horrible observed. "Even when you're trying, you still fail to accomplish anything. And how many schools have let you give aspiring talks to, Captain Hammer? How many since you ran off like a little girl at Duly Park? And Johnny Snow...my, you're still stuck on a rudimentary Ice Beam. Have you managed to fix the de-icing process? We wouldn't want our hostage here to shatter into...more pieces than is necessary."

Moist couldn't stop himself looking sideways at Billie's perpetually wide eyes, dread singing through his veins. He hadn't even thought about that – what if Snow's beam couldn't reverse the process? Penny would kill him.

Wanda slapped his stomach, forcing Moist to look forward again. The heroine herself directed a hard gaze at the villain and henchmen blocking the exit. Creased lines wended across her forehead and, for a moment, recognition seemed to dawn, but she shook it off and defended, "They're heroes. At least they try to do something for the world."

"What about social change?" Moist piped up desperately.

Half of Doctor Horrible's face translated into a cold smirk. "Change? Why would I change anything? I've made the whole world kneel and that's how it will stay."

"Billie is your daughter," Moist threw at him bitterly, uncaring when the clustered henchmen all looked up abruptly at the revelation. "And you don't even care. I don't know you and I don't think anyone else should either. It's not right. When I tell Penny..."

"Please," the Doctor's bored voice interrupted. "I don't have time for this. And neither do any of you."

He indicated the topic of the conversation. Water had begun to trickle down Professor Normal, dampening his clothes, creating patches in embarrassing places. Seizing the opportunity (once his relief had subsided), Moist lurched forward and pried thawing Billie the moment she starting drawing breath. Horrible unconcernedly kept his Death Ray level at the Professor, whose calculating eyes were the only part of him moving, even when the ice was completely gone.

"No other soliloquies?" baited Dr. Horrible. "Good. Take him to headquarters. Oh – and bring our new friends here too."

Doctor Horrible snapped his fingers in Penny's general direction and a gaggle of henchmen departed with her prone body. Then the fingers aimed towards the still stunned heroes, though the intention was obviously not them.

"You won't get her!" Moist shouted, curling his arm around Billie.

"Daddy," she gasped.

Moist hesitated. Billy was his friend and he couldn't exactly hurt him in front of his friend's child...but Moist wasn't the put-out henchman anymore. He had a real power, one that was now announcing itself by warming his nose and cheeks. Moist held up a hand and drew a breath, murmuring to Splendour, "The window in my bedroom is broken so just get Captain Hammer to pull the bit of wood out. You can escape that way."

"What about you?" she whispered back.

"I need to get Penny back."

Mucus thundered out of Moist's core from his outstretched limb and the blast radius encased not only Horrible but the henchmen around him. Moist kept the flow pouring out, but already some of his enemies were rising. It was futile, but white anger crept in around the edges of Moist's vision and he knew he couldn't stop. Not now.

Wanda shouted at her companions who started through the side door. She touched Billie's back and said quickly, "Let me take her. Trust me, Moist. From one hero to another."

"Right," he rasped. "But don't let anything happen to her, okay? Penny would never forgive me."

"Can we go now?" Hammer interjected from the doorway. "These guys aren't looking too happy. And I'd rather not share the lift to St. Peter with them, even if they're going straight back down to hell."

"Yeah, because that would be the most awkward thing about being dead!" exclaimed Johnny's voice.

Clutching Billie to her, Splendour saluted Moist and sped out of sight. Moist heard wood cracking, and he saw the Death Ray rise through the torrent towards him. He held his breath and charged.

* * *

Purple, red and sunny yellow filtered through the sleep that crusted his eyelids. Moist wrenched them apart and took in his surroundings. He knew this car. He knew the driver. And apparently Purple Pimp had found his hat again, because that was all Moist could see of him as the villain grappled with his steering wheel and kept his swearing to a minimum. Red was the disappearing lights that illuminated Moist's neighbourhood at night, and yellow was the cheerful v-neck shirt that Penny wore down past her waist.

"Penny, what..." he began, bewildered. He was alive, which was great – but this wasn't a total improvement.

She leaned over through the darkening cabin and disclosed, "I think we're being taken to the Evil League of Evil."

"But..."

"Where's Billie?" she demanded urgently.

"She's safe," Moist promised, rubbing one eye vigorously to clear his vision. "I gave her to some heroes to look after. I trust them. It's um...Splendour, Johnny Snow and Captain Hammer."

A sharp intake of breath. "Why would you do that? You can't leave – why did you – Billie shouldn't be with him!"

The car veered right abruptly and Moist struck out hands either side for purchase. Judging by the ache in his arms and the lack of sliding, his power was still out. He smiled assuringly at his friend. "I'm sorry, I don't...he's alright. He's not as gungho, I think..."

"I didn't think you'd bring Captain Hammer," Penny contemplated. "This changes everything."

"Well, yeah, it was a surprise to me too."

"He's not Captain Hammer."

Silence filled the vehicle; even the Purple Pimp had no complaints to make, though it was possibly due to the fact that the traffic lights were all dutifully green for him. Moist waited a few more moments before asking slowly, "Uh, who is he then?"

Penny leaned back in her seat and she peered out the window, her face alternating between lit and shadowed. "He's a clone or a mutant zombie. I'm not sure which. I know that's not the original Captain Hammer. I know because I saw him die."

"So..." Moist trailed off, running through the past few hours in his mind.

"Professor Normal has an agent right with my daughter," Penny finished.

"Pen, if I'd known..." Moist groaned, but a hand rested over his knee.

The touch said everything that words didn't – she forgave him. Moist's shoulders slumped and he breathed evenly. Penny withdrew her hand and asked, "How well do you trust Splendour and Johnny Snow?"

"Actually, more than I did a few hours ago."

"We need to tell Billy," she decided. "He'll do something."

Moist almost didn't have the heart to tell her, but he knew from experience with bandaids that you had to do it quickly, before the hairs on your legs got too attached to the adhesive.

"I don't think he's Billy anymore," Moist began and then recounted his story with as few subjective adjectives as he could.

Five minutes later, they were being roughly shown the door. Except they were being thrown in, instead of out, which wasn't optimal. Not one bit.


	4. Attack of the Mutant Zombies ACT I - Behind Every Great Man

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Moist and Penny become "guests" of the ELE.

_Sometimes people are layered like that. There's something totally different underneath than what's on the surface.  
_ _And sometimes there's a third, even deeper level and that one is the same as the top surface one._

\- Penny and Dr. Horrible,  _Doctor Horrible's Sing-Along Blog_

* * *

The concrete box was large enough for several stallions and radiated a hint of horse dung – all of which would indicate a room previously used for a deposed leader of the Evil League of Evil. Penny did not need to figure this out by guess work; she had been the one, five years ago, to clean the room out for the purpose of supplying a nearby community garden with free fertiliser. Those had been the early days of the new League, when the only members knew her face and appreciated her lettuce sandwiches. The hoses that had lined the walls were gone, leaving crusty holes throughout the fortified room. Penny thought it must have been Bad Horse's bathroom and was probably so well insulated because no one, not even a horse, liked to be caught with their pants down...so to speak.

Whatever it had once been, it was now a prison cell with a tiny naked ceiling light revealing two occupants – one muttering unhappily in the corner and one pacing, wringing her hands.

"Pen, he's not going to come," warned Moist. "He's probably too busy doing stuff to Professor Normal. Not that I blame him, but uh...yeah, not for the right reasons, you know?"

Penny knotted the edge of her shirt over to one hip. The spat between the two men in her life was starting to make more sense. "Billy didn't tell you, did he? Um, well a League member is supposed to look a certain way or no one will believe that they're evil enough. It's kind of hard to rule the League if you don't kill people, so you pretend. I wrote the press releases."

"Have you written any of them lately?" Moist asked dourly.

She said nothing. Moist sighed.

Smiling reassuringly at him, Penny folded herself up beside him on the floor and patted his knee. Penny stared down when she felt his dry, coarse palm brush over her knuckles. When their eyes again met – deep, determined green against pale, discreet blue – Penny realised that this man next to her was not the same one who had pointed out a sock in the laundromat yesterday. Maybe he could see something in Billy that she was blind to...

"No," Penny said firmly. "But that doesn't matter. Billy will come and we'll get out of here."

"Okay," said Moist, but his grim expression remained. "What about the rest of the League? Conflict Diamond, yeah, she'd probably kill someone for looking at her wrong but Pi..The Pummeller? What about me? Why didn't you ever write a press release for me?"

Penny bit the inside of her cheek. She did know a lot about the business of the first members of the new League and it was her hand that had turned more than one reputation, but that was in an increasingly distant past. Two years and a little over eight months ago, she'd been the nameless public relations whiz. And then the stick had drawn two pink lines instead of one, so she'd had to make a choice. Telling Billy about the pregnancy had been easy. He had stared at her for a full minute, then he'd started mumbling about how he'd have to pick just the right name so his child would never end up a henchman and finally he'd grinned like a maniac.

The marriage proposal had slipped from his lips. Penny had explained long and hard about why they couldn't do that, mostly because of anonymity and security, and he'd got that. She had made most of the decisions in his plans then, even the set-up of Duly Park. One of her last decisions has been not to include Moist in that particular press release.

"I don't know, Moist," Penny said.

He turned away, dislodging her hand. "I do. It's because I was wet and useless. And come on...who could blame you? I'm only henchman material, right?"

Flattening her legs and wiggling the toes of her multi-coloured socks, Penny distracted herself from the uncomfortable hollow ache in her stomach. Finally, she told him softly, "Moist, you were there for me. I mean...Billy got really busy, which is fine, and you didn't have to keep your distance. I liked talking to someone. It was actually kind of selfish of me. I'm sorry. And I honestly thought Billy told you about the press releases."

"I guess running the ELE is harder than it looks, huh," Moist mused, shifting around to face her again.

Penny crossed her legs and allowed herself to breathe deeply. "Thank you."

"A lot of this still doesn't make any sense," he pointed out.

"At Duly Park, I convinced Billy to fake the death – she wasn't even a real person," Penny explained as tiny fractures lined the skin between her eyes. "It was easy, but it backfired. The Freeze Ray somehow mixed up with the Stun Ray and killed Captain Hammer. But I was the only one who saw him dying in another section of the park. I hid when I heard someone coming and I...I saw Professor Normal. He took the body."

Moist blinked at her a couple of times. "Uh, you should probably have told someone about that."

"I know. That was stupid. I was going to defeat him all on my own and prove to Billy that I could be on the League and that we could be together without people knowing..."

"So Professor Normal..."

She webbed her fingers together and set them in her lap, eyes travelling to the furthest corner of the room. "He found out about me because I stole the Stun Ray and tried to get him. It didn't work."

"Penny," Moist began, but didn't continue. Penny knew he probably wanted to say she should have gone to someone for help – anyone! But he was too nice for that.

"I'm sorry," she whispered.

He lifted his shoulders very deliberately into a shrug. "Forget it. Still want to do laundry together?"

"Only if you promise to talk to Billy with me. He'll explain."

"Sure," Moist agreed.

Their four walled cage broke as a door open at one end. Penny and Moist both stood up. She took his hand, and smiled at him when she felt the moisture dissipate under her fingers. Three heads entered the room. Conflict Diamond's sunglasses swivelled from one side to the other and a smirk curled onto her face.

"Wow, this is some really bad luck, Moist," she noted. "The least they could have done was give you some toilet paper. Oh wait, I might have a copy of your newsletter somewhere."

"Uh, what?" Moist asked, bewildered.

"I used bleach," Penny murmured.

A nail bearing more resemblance to a scimitar hooked towards them and Conflict Diamond snapped, "You've got a meeting with our delusional leader. If he thinks I have enough time to hang around with all the pussies in this building...well, I don't mean you, Penny. Nice shirt."

Penny realised that Moist had fallen quiet, his eyes drawn to the menacing bulk behind Conflict Diamond's left. The two heads were the obvious giveaway, but to Penny it was the matching brass knuckles, the belt riddled with melted bullets and the ensuing thrill of terror that signalled the arrival of Gemini. She'd met the ELE's heavy-weight killer a few times, but Billy had forbidden her from ever being within a few metres of the monstrosity. Penny had wondered if he was trying to keep secrets at the time, but it hadn't taken her long to realise that anyone who got too close to Gemini ended up with a slug in their cranium.

"Horrible should let me kill both of you," he grunted.

"Now, now, you're getting half of your wish aren't you?" Conflict Diamond chortled.

Moist and Penny exchanged glances. She stepped forward and pulled him with her.

"Just the girl," Gemini rasped.

A steadily moistening hand clenched hard over her fingers. Penny easily wrested away from her friend's grip and whispered, "I'll be fine."

Conflict Diamond looped her arm through Penny's and began leading her out like they were girlfriends on a shopping trip. As her feet hit the corridor outside, Penny quickly darted a look back at Moist. He was flat against the wall, eyeing the two heads that were bobbing steadily closer to him. Penny opened her mouth, but he shook his head.

"I'll be fine," Moist lied.

Penny held up her hand in a little wave as a slab of grey eclipsed the door frame.

"That slimeball will make a nice paste, but I'm not going to spread him on my crumpet," Conflict Diamond observed.

Penny followed the villainess, forcing herself not to look back.

* * *

Smoke rose above the line of buildings directly opposite the apartment, throwing out tendrils in every direction. An orange glow peeked around each plume. Wanda Plenn straightened sides of her grey tank top and wrenched back her wet hair into a stubby ponytail. She nearly jumped out of her skin when a helicopter roared into view, dipping low as whatever daring reporter braving a fine from the police hung out with a microphone and shouted dire commentary into the ears of the eager masses, living or otherwise.

The espresso machine trilled. Wanda attended to it.

"Why did it have to be my apartment?" she demanded.

Johnny Snow carefully balanced the toddler on the edge of the recliner, settling cushions around her, making sure his fingers never came into contact with the girl's bright floral attire which was mercifully not ruffly but the print could not be excused. Billie frowned uncertainly at him. Johnny pulled a face back at her.

"Don't you have ovaries?" Captain Hammer answered. He lowered a gloved finger between Billie's eyes, then snatched it back when she refused to go cross-eyed.

Wanda set down three mugs of Russian white-chocolate coffee and made sure that Captain Hammer saw her eyes roll up to the heavens. "I hate to disappoint anyone, but I haven't ever had the time to have children. Nor have I found anyone in particular to do it with."

"I'd do it with you," Johnny said happily.

"Should I be apologising?" Captain Hammer put forward civilly, but was largely ignored.

Wanda sighed. "Damn it, Johnny. If I felt something for you, I would have said something by now. You will probably regret all of this once your adrenaline levels sap themselves dry."

The icy hero beamed. "That time is not yet."

"Uh, so...there's a baby," Captain Hammer reminded everyone.

"Your skills of observation astound me," Wanda deadpanned, but her uncertain scowl was not directed at her colleague. "What are we going to do with her? The Guild is compromised, everyone we know is MIA and I don't even know the girl's name."

"Spawn of Satan?" Captain Hammer supplied.

"No way, she doesn't look anything like Doctor Horrible," Johnny said, quickly leaning over to cover the girl's ears with his hands.

"Johnny's got a point, Hammer," Wanda conceded, holding up a hand when her admirer brightened. "Stop. Just stop. We've got bigger problems than this girl. We've heard nothing from the Council of Champions in hours and Professor Normal has got himself into the ELE headquarters and somehow I don't think he did it for the friendly service."

"How is that our problem?" Hammer asked, narrowing his eyes.

Wanda walked over to her boxy TV and switched it on. Instantly, the room became crowded with noisy reporters hurriedly trying to press fear and panic into their viewers by showing the same three angles of the still smouldering ruins of the Heroes Guild headquarters, interspersed with clips of rampaging zombies. They were mowed down with LAPD bullets soon enough, but it was the lines of marching zombies (one was even beating a drum!) calmly staging their undead protest that worried Wanda even more. Especially when they broke rank and started grappling with police like they were uniformed dolls.

"That will take ten minutes, tops, with these babies." Captain Hammer held up his fists for emphasis. "Except, not that baby. Just these two."

Johnny Snow snorted. "The door's unlocked so go for it."

Static scribbled over the television set, settling when the two local anchors appeared, shuffling sheafs of paper and using their best doom and gloom faces. The female anchor was wearing black.

"...they appear to be converging on a decrepit mansion on the outskirts of town," her co-anchor informed his viewers with a straight set to his mouth.

The woman nodded at this. "According to our sources, that building is condemned. Maybe they're doing us a favour and demolishing it pro bono publico."

"I don't know what that means," her colleague said, "but it sounds like we could all learn something from their example."

Wanda turned the set off. Captain Hammer squeezed himself between Billie and the edge of Wanda's tiny lounge. He chuckled heartily. "Sounds like they're gunning for the ELE. Not a bad day's work, even if they are dead people."

"Once they're done with the ELE, it's likely they'll turn on everyone else." Wanda drew a breath. "We need to help the Evil League of Evil."

It wasn't the most unpopular statement ever made in history, but it probably ranked up there somewhere. Splendour swallowed her laugh at the horrified expressions on her colleagues' faces, then retrieved her spare outfit – one mercifully unsullied by brain matter and sparkly sequins.

Johnny meanwhile attempted to catch the toddler's attention. He pointed at himself and said loudly, "John. Ee. Johnny."

The girl's face crinkled in an unsatisfactory manner. "Billie. Bill. Ee."

"Girls mature faster, Johnny," Wanda lobbed at him, grinning only briefly as she walked back into the room, adjusting her outfit. "Hello, Billie. I'm Wanda. Moist wants us to keep you safe."

"Mos okay?" Billie asked, frowning.

"If he's not right now, then he will be – I promise, sweetheart. We'll leave someone to look after you."

"You heard Doctor Horrible – she's not worth any leverage," warned Johnny.

"God, Johnny, that's not what I meant. I'm not going to ransom the poor girl. What do you think is more important to the Evil League of Evil right now?"

"Anarchy, looting, media representation..." rattled off Captain Hammer. "Oh and maybe that Professor guy, but I don't..."

"Head of the class, Hammer," Wanda congratulated. The hero stared at her while part of his brain worked through what she had said. Splendour continued, "The enemy of my enemy is my friend. I'm not expecting any white flags at the end of it."

"I'll stay with Billie," Johnny decided.

"Why does he get to stay?" Captain Hammer demanded.

Wanda focused on Johnny. "Status of the Ice Beam?"

"Totalled. And the pen-beam is a heap of scrap. I'm sorry, I cannot follow the love of my life into battle."

Captain Hammer raised a hand. "I haven't got anyone to iron my shirt..."

The slap on his shoulder hurt Wanda a lot more than it did him, but he darted away from the lounge, rubbing the offending spot. She smiled exasperatedly. "Hammer, listen to me. You fought down a hundred zombies last night. Sure, you broke a sweat but that doesn't matter. Because we got through the door. There's no one else I'd rather have watching my back."

"Ditto," Johnny added. "You can even take most of the credit."

"Well, I..." Hammer looked dazed.

Wanda clasped her hands behind her back and stretched her arms up over her head. She shook herself out and sternly told her team mate, "You better not slow me down."

"No problem," the hero announced, somehow managing to flex the corded muscles in his neck in an entirely inappropriate manner. He gamely threw himself out the window and bounded down half the street without so much as bending his knees.

Splendour looked back at Johnny. "I don't love you."

Johnny shrugged. "I know."

Her salute was the last thing that remained in the room before she disappeared.

* * *

Penny fiddled with the rampant creases spidering out from the hem of her shirt. The metal chair she was sitting in reminded her uncannily of a dentist's office and she expected the back of it to start sliding towards the ground, angling her teeth towards a man with a drill. The chair opposite her looked far less comfortable, though the spikes running down either side may have had something to do with that.

"So...are you okay? I mean, of course you're okay...you always are, but..." Penny paused and found that she could not continue. Moist's words trickled back into her ears. She shut out his voice. "I was going to apply for the League. But everything happened."

A black glove floated from the arm rest to latch around the googles, easing them up off the face of the notorious Doctor Horrible. Purple rings spread from beneath his eyes, murky in the shadows of the room. Silently, he watched her, hand resuming its lifeless position by his side. Penny smiled bravely. "Billy, I should have told you this before, but Captain Hammer is dead. I saw it happen. I just didn't...want you to know what you'd done, because I thought it might turn you into something that neither of us want."

"Too late," he said simply.

"But you don't mean that," Penny insisted.

He stared at her again, a ghost of light returning to his eyes. Warm relief seeded in her stomach and Penny escaped the chair, sweeping over to throw her arms around him. She drew back at arm's length, scanning his distant expression. "You're so thin. Have you been eating anything?"

"The curry house doesn't exactly deliver to the Evil League of Evil, you know," he told her quietly.

"You could have told me. I can bring you some...and I'll bring Billie. It's been six months."

Doctor Horrible blinked so slowly it almost appeared that he had drifted away. "Has it."

Fighting to keep her forehead uncreased, Penny took hold of the hand nearest her and worked the glove off. Limp, pale fingers fell away from the glove and she wrapped her hands around his, rubbing his clammy palm to warm up his skin. One deep, laboured breath hissed between his teeth.

"I know you've got other things on your mind," Penny continued, shifting slightly to the right to catch his gaze again. "But you could at least...tell me what's going on with Professor Normal. You haven't...killed him have you?"

Dark chasmic ice now glinted in his eyes. She set his hand back on the armrest, carefully lining up his arm so that it did not brush any of the spikes. Penny waited. Another heavy sigh left him, but he swallowed it sharply.

"Your concern is touching," Doctor Horrible sneered, stuffing his hand back into the glove. "No, I have not. Yet. It's not a moral dilemma, merely a matter of timing. He wouldn't be the first person I've killed. I'm the head of the ELE. It's supposed to be bloody."

Penny sat back onto her bent legs and studied the base of his chair for a moment. "But it's not."

"I'll let you go, but you need to get out of town or something. I can't be responsible for you."

"What about Moist?" she asked, wondering why she had never scrubbed each and every floor personally. The floorboards bore stains older than her high school history teacher.

"Henchman. Expendable. There are others who can run the Union."

"But he's your best friend," Penny pressed. Someone had scratched a skull and crossbones to the left of the chair.

His voice levelled back into a bland tone. "If definition of friend is someone you don't need, then I suppose you can label him that way. Society is all about labels. There needs to be less labels."

"But..." Penny glanced up. "What about 'girlfriend' and 'daughter'?"

"I fail to see the connection of those words to me," he said, unconcerned.

She imagined briefly, desperately, that she had heard something else, but her eyes burned. Penny stood, leaning forward to touch his shoulder, but he merely shrugged to loosen her grip. Hesitantly, she considered a kiss, but she was afraid of how his lips would feel.

"I love you," she said loudly. He winced. "Billy, did you hear me?"

"I don't know who you are talking about."

Penny steadied her mouth long enough to form a smile. "This is because everyone knows now, isn't it? You're protecting me."

"Label it however you like. Get out of LA. I can't see you again."

"We can fix this. We can make a difference. Social change..."

His glove extended, palm up. A quarter shone dully in the shadows. Penny rested her hand over his, feeling the cool circle against her own palm.

"Keep it," he said. "That's the only change I've got. You know what? I don't want to see you again. You just ruin everything. I should have done this ages ago."

Penny leaned in and kissed him gently. He made no move to respond or to discourage her. It was like kissing granite.

"Goodbye, Billy," she murmured.

One foot in front of the other. Penny wished she hadn't worn shoes with a plastic tip on the heel, because the double tap of her feet grated on the silence. She avoided looking at Conflict Diamond as the other woman passed her on the way in.

Conflict Diamond repaid this in kind with a nonchalant shake of her head. She gestured over her shoulder at the re-sealed door. "Want me to call Purple Pimp to take her home?"

"Why?" Doctor Horrible snapped.

"Don't know if you've noticed, but the mutant zombies seem to be craving our flesh. Otherwise they'd be making a beeline for City Hall instead of our not-so-secret base, right?"

"The woman is not my problem."

"Wow." Conflict Diamond tipped her sunglasses off the black-contacts swallowing all colour in her eyes to appraise the villain. "Cold. I like it."

"Did I ask your opinion?"

* * *

A cold, nauseating sludge seated itself at the back of Penny's throat as she stood in a corridor lit only by a smashed wall fixture. The wallpaper had once been green-brown, perhaps imitation wooden panelling, but now it was so ripped and worn that it was only classy enough for a train station bathroom. She remembered trying to convince Billy to invest in new wallpaper, but it had been one suggestion too far.

 _Ambience is important, ya know,_  he'd insisted.

"Right," Penny muttered.

Her first instinct was to hunt down the heroes in possession of her daughter and beat the crap out of Captain Hammer, except not only did she not have any money for taxi, she couldn't exactly do any damage to the clone. He felt pain, so that was something. A dark, nasty thought occurred to Penny regarding eternal pain but she swept it aside.

"Well, okay," she said. More nonsense. "So I should get Moist before I do that. Since he might...know where to go...where am I supposed to go? Head up, Penny, you can do this."

"Or you could listen to my brilliant, if unappreciated, idea," announced Professor Normal from two metres away.

Penny gasped and lifted her fists to start whacking his vested chest, but he sidestepped and brushed down his clothing to resettle the fabric after the turbulence. She floundered to the floor, scraping her hands on a few nails that rose out of the floorboards, then struck out one red pump to pinch the villain's ankle. A bionic arm swung back in response. Penny wriggled in reverse across the floor and managed to catch the whirring fingers of his arm as gravity accelerated its fall towards her.

Her hand arched backwards painfully when he clamped down hard. Two metallic fingers ringed her wrist and squeezed. Penny gnawed the inside of her cheek to keep from giving him the satisfaction of crying out.

"You really should consider replacement limbs," the villain told her, leaning over so that his goggles eclipsed all else. "Truly remarkable strength capabilities."

"How did you get out?" Penny forced out between her teeth.

Stepping back and dragging her a few paces across the dusty floor, Professor Normal scanned the walls, his cheeks tightening until he nodded to himself, seemingly assured that no one was listening. He told her with all the interest of a man watching mould grow, "Ordinarily, I might indulge your curiosity, but you already know too much about me, Miss Claybourne – oh yes, I know your name. Ah, but the brilliance...the imposters will be far too occupied with the outside threat to check within their own walls." He stopped, suddenly taking note of her intent silence. "There is a question you should answer, if you will indulge  _me_ , my dear. How is it that the usurper's whore discovered my laboratory?"

Penny lurched forward and managed to lift one knee, putting it out in front of her to give her some leverage as he wrenched her wrist upwards. She stared into his goggles and masked her shudder as she answered, "I followed you."

"Interesting," he said, slapping just below her knee. Penny's knee collapsed under her body's reflexive response. A long gasp drew its way out of her. His lips formed a satisfied smirk. "I believe you and the Doctor are experiencing difficulties. Might I offer my suggestion or you do wish me to separate your arm from its socket?"

"I nearly got you once," Penny reminded him. "I can...try again."

"And fail again, as you are unarmed this time."

Barbs of pain shot through her fingers to her elbow when he jerked her to one side. Penny felt her face contort, but managed she bite out, "What do you want?"

"Lower interest rates," he revealed mournfully. "And Doctor Horrible in an unguarded moment resulting in my fist slowly crunching his neck into a pencil."

"You're sick," she said, seeing multiple copies of the Professor as her vision wobbled. The pain was gone suddenly, and this should have worried her, but she was focusing on that same stupid ripped section of the wall that she was still itching to fix.

"Oh no, I am quite healthy," Professor Normal assured her. "Much healthier than my minions who are biding their time around us. So my dear...what is it to be? Will you hold the horrible Doctor down for me?"

Penny hesitated. "What about my daughter?"

"Immaterial to my plans. You may do with her as you will. That is, if the very  _helpful_  Captain Hammer has left any morsels for you to save. I wired him exceptionally well."

"Can't he feel pain, though?" she pointed out. "That's kind of a side effect."

The fingers of his bionic arm suddenly opened, causing her to fall backwards. An ache stretched through the tendons of her arm and Penny rubbed her wrist fervently. She sat up, watching him. He looked quizzical. "Should this side effect concern me?"

Penny planted her hands on the floor in front of her, pushing herself up onto her knees, then her feet. Clutching her sore arm, she leaned against the closest wall and took deep breaths, forcing her mind to forget the pain and her fear. Penny stared right at the villain. "Okay. I've made my decision."

"What is that, my dear?" he enquired jovially.

"I'm going to need some help. I'm not getting it from you, but it was nice of you to offer, don't get me wrong."

"A shame," he mused. "Your brain would have made a fine addition. Now I will have to crush it."

But Penny's eyes were no longer on him.

Heavy fists, encased in glossy brown boxing gloves, fell onto Professor Normal's shoulders. The villain went still.

"Got any of those famous lettuce sandwiches?" the newcomer asked.

"If you get us out of here, I will make you a dozen," Penny promised. "With extra lettuce."

A broad grin spread on The Pummeller's even broader face.

Then Professor Normal socked him in the gut with that unyielding bionic arm. Penny's rescuer doubled over wheezing. As the deluded scientist leaned in to finish the job, The Pummeller, still looking bizarrely cheerful, wound back one fist and pounded it with the force of a sledgehammer falling off a ten storey building into Professor Normal's solar plexus. One villain went flying down the corridor into a dead end.

"You are about to get pummelled!" howled The Pummeller.

Professor Normal hurled himself against the wall and promptly vanished into a secret hatch.

"Oops, never mind," The Pummeller rejoined, his grin turning sheepish. "Do I still get those sandwiches?"


	5. Attack of the Mutant Zombies ACT II - I Think I'm a Clone Now

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Professor Normal's mutant zombies get a taste for the ELE headquarters.

_Hey, I know you.  
_ _Hello. You know me? Cool. I mean, yeah. You do. Do you?_

\- Penny and Dr. Horrible,  _Doctor Horrible's Sing-Along Blog_

_  
_

* * *

The faux manor house crowning the peak of the hill had probably once been grand and the venue of great, classy parties. No living soul would bother with such affairs there now – the cracked walls were grey-washed from passing traffic, the front door had been completely walled in with ill-fitting red bricks, the windows varied between barred or completely boarded up and the current inhabitants were generally considered to be the most evil people in Los Angeles, if not the world.

The garden wasn't too cluttered, actually. Probably because any trees that would have dropped leaves had been removed so no one could sneak up on the Evil League of Evil's headquarters. The lawn required no maintenance, owing to the fact that grass abhorred the place entirely and all that was left was dirt and cigarette butts. And possibly the occasional piece of bone. Let's not dwell on that.

The driveway – simple, boring, unfailing concrete – slightly wound its way down to the gnarled and spiky black fence that ran the entire perimeter. If this was not enough to deter any hero, then the four feet of electrified wires on  _top_ of the fence certainly did the job.

Presently, the gate was under siege. Not from devout religious beings, not from solicitors, not from daring journalists attached to current affairs programmes and certainly not any members from the somewhat scattered, very depleted Heroes Guild.

The zombies were twenty deep from the fence to the middle of the road. Their numbers were growing by the minute. A yahoo with a YouTube account sat astride his parked moped, camera phone focused on the scene. He was imagining view hits, thumbs ups and maybe some more subscribers.

The zombies were imagining brains, brains and maybe some more brains.

Chiefly, their objective was to enter the property and restore Professor Normal to his throne. But they were not capable of deducing this.

Smoothly, the well-oiled and well-surveillanced gate swung open at the command of the true genius behind the demise of the ELE.

Uninvited guests began to pour into the grounds. Their rising moans and grunts seemed an appropriate soundtrack for the ELE's headquarters but worst of all – they were answered by others from within the house.

Professor Normal, peering out of a window in the attic, could not have been more pleased.

* * *

Penny ducked just in time for her companion to smash through the slippery exposed skull of the zombie in front of them. She recovered quickly, took a moment to brush a fragment of dead skin off her shirt, and barely managed to dance out of reach of arms that flailed from the wall as though stuck there separately.

"They're in the walls – stay in the middle of the corridor!" Penny instructed.

The Pummeller mournfully shook brain matter off his prized gloves, then looked up at her with horror. "Have you got a plan? You do have a plan, don't you? None of this will work if you don't..."

"Padraic!" Penny interrupted, spinning around to face him. "It's okay. You don't have to think too hard. Just... help me rescue Moist from Gemini."

"Oh," he said, then barrelled down Penny's left to punch through the weathered wall to KO another vagrant pair of limbs.

Penny remained unflinching. "Oh?"

"Gemini really isn't cool with Moist. We'll be taking him home in bits and pieces. Penny – watch out!"

She hit the floor, skimming a millimetre or so of skin off her palms. Thickset and imbibed with superior strength, The Pummeller unleashed padded gloved fury on the three or so members of the undead who had tried to sneak up on Penny. She had always played up his ability in the press releases rather than his personality because he really could not comprehend turning his fists on puppies or children. Zombies, however, appeared not to share that immunity.

A pair of hands tore through the wall at ankle height and grappled with The Pummeller before he tripped and fell. Zombie No. 477 collapsed on top of him, suckling up from the shoulder pads peeking out through a hole in The Pummeller's shirt to his exposed jaw. The hands of a so-called villain latched around its neck and wrenched the head clean off with a disgusting squelch.

Penny gasped as more zombies hurried down both ends of the corridor. "Padraic..."

"I'd really like to hear your plan now, Penny!" he exclaimed.

A sickly pale, writhing pile of the undead buried Padraic until all Penny could see were brown boxing gloves bursting up towards freedom. Mindful of her own peril, she put her back to her friend and held up her fists in a weak imitation of his already unoriginal stance. Penny dropped when the first one lurched towards her and swung her shoe into its ankles. It fell on top of her and she cried out as her already sore arm twisted beneath her. Gritting her teeth, she used her free hard to wrench out her assailant's jaw bone when it tried to crunch down on her. She punctured its face with the jagged edge of the bone until it slid sideways onto the floor. She forced herself to keep her eyes open as she garrotted it.

Panting, she looked up at the line of zombies and saw her death.

A stream of soupy liquid burst across her assailants. They dutifully fell about, some losing their motor skills completely. Moist leaped from head to head, flattening the sopping mess beneath his sneakers. One shoe was completely missing its laces, while the other was splattered with dark red blood over the toes. Penny felt a multitude of things – relief to see him alive, pride to know he had come so far in two days and...certainty that he had not killed Gemini. She knew Moist. She knew more about him than Billy – and she could admit that now.

Penny mouthed his name, but found her voice absent. She leaped up and hugged him in lieu of words. Moist awkwardly patted her back. "Sorry I took so long. I uh... had to dodge a few bullets. Nothing major, though."

The Pummeller looped his large muscled arm around the pair of of them and sniffled. Moist rolled his eyes and slipped easily from their grasp. Mucus-y flecks sprayed from his hands as he patted his drying clothes down.

"You're alive!" Padraic said with a grin. "Did you inherit a power too or something?"

"Or something," Moist replied. He managed a grin of his own, but lost it soon enough. "Pen, we have got to get out of here."

Penny thought briefly of blue eyes brighter than Moist's then shook the image away. "I completely agree. Any ideas?"

The Henchman Union's leader's face bunched to one side as he considered. He scratched at his slowly re-moistening scalp before an idea alighted on his face. "The side entrance?"

"Too many zombies," Penny countered, peering down the eerily empty corridor. She trusted the zombies' absence no more than she did her boyfri...whatever he was.

"How about I smash a hole in the wall?" The Pummeller suggested.

Moist shrugged. "Works for me."

Gayly, Padraic buried two fists in the nearest wall, threw out a zombie which Moist disintegrated with a single burst, then burrowed through. Penny sprang in after him and blinked away the sudden light that performed an onslaught on her eyes. They had passed through the hidden passageway in the wall all the way through to a small room that accommodated no more than six mini-chandeliers,

seven mirrors that managed to dwarf the bulky Padraic and multi-coloured gems embedded wherever there wasn't a decoration or a painting of a tall, elegant Hispanic woman with silver eyes and identical cuts on both cheeks.

"Moist, is that you?" asked the subject of the portraits as she rose from a red settee with crystal legs. Her dress was a strapless, ruby affair that matched the satin of her furniture and she appeared to flow from the upholstery. "Where have you been? I've been waiting for thirty minutes for someone to tell me what is going on. Perdón, but we fired you didn't we?"

Penny recognised the woman as Courtesan – as beautiful and hard as a diamond, with perfect lines for her neck and calves. Frowning as the villainess looked them up and down with a slow sneer curling her pretty lips, Penny remembered her previous misgivings over Courtesan's appointment to the ELE. But she had pressed Billy to take on the knife expert for the League's image.

"Actually, I quit," Moist said quietly.

"That's not important right now," Penny cut in, stepping out in front of her companions. Her heels snapped the highly polished and highly reflective floorboards simultaneously as she stopped within a pace of Courtesan. "Professor Normal is back."

Courtesan sighed and sank back onto the settee, leaning back as she threw her hand over her face. "Oh dear. That man is so terribly smart."

Penny stared at her. She heard the unmistakeable groaning and shuffling out in the corridor and wondered how she could impress upon Courtesan the seriousness of the situation without actually letting a zombie bite her. The Pummeller muttered to himself and began to strike out at the heads and arms that started thrusting through the hole he had made.

"Okay," said Penny. "I don't care if you stay. You can probably look after yourself. Because that is exactly what Doctor Horrible is doing right now. Are you coming with us or would you like to, I don't know, swoon for the zombies too?"

"You little puta," snarled Courtesan. "You spread your legs for a man with a pathetic evil laugh and think you can order me about. Were you really so stupid that you did not ask for payment?"

The slap stung Penny's raw palm when she delivered it, and errant pricks of numbed pain sprinkled over her skin afterwards. Courtesan covered up the fading mark on her face with a delicately placed hand. Her sneer dissolved into an indignant, open-mouthed expression.

Moist chuckled. "Way to go, Penny!"

"Can we go now?" demanded The Pummeller over his shoulder. An arm was flailing around his neck like a tentacle, so he ripped it off and started hitting the zombie with its own ashen limb.

Penny indicated the wall behind Courtesan. "Is this an exterior wall?"

"How should I know?" Courtesan sniffed.

"You know what?" Penny, though a good three inches shorter even with her shoes, stared down the villainess with blazing green eyes. "I don't need your help. Padraic, please make an exit for us. Moist, make sure Professor Normal's toys don't follow."

Moist shot into the hole at will, tapping The Pummeller's shoulder as he did so. The latter turned, appraised the wall behind Courtesan's prized settee, raised his fists and ran full tilt towards freedom. The hole he left could have fit a small truck. Not entirely stealthy, but it suited Penny just fine. She shouldered past Courtesan and called for Moist. Her friend left backwards, showering the floor with slippery liquid to cover their escape. Courtesan latched onto his arm and skidded onto the dirt outside.

All four of them stared at what awaited them.

"That... kind of sucks, right," Penny supplied for everyone too stunned to think up an expletive. "I think we have a bigger problem than we just did."

"It's been nice knowing you guys," Moist said.

Though they inhabited a small pocket of zombie-free soil, there were hordes between them and the gate. And many hollow eyes had turned in the direction of noise and  _brains_.

Courtesan slipped her fingers down her sides before whipping out jewel-laden daggers that were impossible to have hidden anywhere in her dress, though she must have managed. She snapped, "Speak for yourself!"

"We'll have to try at least," Penny said aside to Moist.

He held up both hands, looking over at her with a half-smile half-grimace. "Oh, hey, I'm not saying we can't. I've kind of been in this situation before. I'm just saying... it's been nice."

"Hah!" Padraic exclaimed, wiping his gloves against his trousers. "This mob is about to get pummelled!"

"I like the sound of that plan," Penny said.

"So we're just going to do it, huh?" Moist asked, raising his eyebrows.

Penny smiled. "Sure, let's do it."

Penny was the first to start running. Moist and The Pummeller followed instantly, though it only took a few moans behind Courtesan to send her chasing after her companions. The zombies were already charging back with equal reactive force. Some lopped sideways as they were hammered with balls of sweaty liquid and others fell to pieces after a few simple slashes of Courtesan's blades.

"The gate just shut!" Penny shouted.

"Oh, that's helpful," Moist muttered and thrust out the heel of his palm in the gate's direction, but only a dribble of his power dropped to the earth.

They formed a triangle of zombie-free space, which Moist pushed Penny into. She wanted to argue that she was just as useful as he was in his current powerless state, but she did not want to offend him, or impinge on his new sense of purpose. Because she liked it. She liked seeing someone become who they were meant to be.

 _Then who I am supposed to be?_ she thought.  _Shouldn't I figure that out before I die?_

Her protective perimeter shuffled forward, but the rotting rain pressed back. The Pummeller clubbed through two skulls in one blow, but there were five other skulls queuing up for him. Courtesan attempted to batter her own way out of the triangle, but she reluctantly moved back closer to Penny when her efforts came to nothing. Moist was already there, his fingers dripping with slime that certainly did not come from his powers. The source turned out to be the very vulnerable and foul eyeballs that he was jabbing into in an attempt to blind the oncoming wave.

"Billie..." Penny whispered, thinking that she would never be able to wrest her daughter from Captain Hammer after all...

Then something extraordinary happened.

A bolt of blue fell from the sky. When it hit the ground beside her, Penny realised she was looking at a woman in colourful attire with dark brown hair pinned behind her ears. The troublesome, out-of-reach-anyhow gate then flew over their heads and smacked into the building, taking out the wall and any hapless zombies that were close enough to be crushed.

"The arm on that guy!" the woman – Splendour, Penny remembered from a tabloid (the sort a mother reads while waiting for her underthings to stop tumbling) – crowed. "Hi Moist."

"Uh, thanks, good timing," Moist said. He suddenly looked far more worried about the appearance of the heroine than he had at the sight of the zombies.

The reason became more apparent when the broad-chested clone of Captain Hammer barrelled in after the gate, zombies flapping off in every other direction. The path he'd made soon re-filled with more of the insatiable undead. Penny glared up at him. "What is he doing here?"

She heard Moist mutter aside to Padraic and Courtesan, "This is probably going to get really awkward. Can you guys keep the zombies occupied?"

"Mind if I make my own little escape route?" Courtesan snorted.

"Aw come on," The Pummeller whined, but grinned as he threw a pile of zombies over to one side. "Help me look good in front of everyone. I don't get to do it very often."

The villainess gave a shrill giggle that seemed highly inappropriate and whirled back into action, a trail of destruction in her wake as she circled the unfolding drama. Padraic's ensuing smile would have been infectious if the situation had not been so dire. Penny was aware of that, aware of the death around them, but she could only see little blue eyes and a faded pink sock and suddenly nothing else mattered except making Hammer pay. She started raining slaps, scratches and kicks all over the hero which definitely hurt her more than he did him, but he hopped back, gaping at her.

A slopping sound that had nothing to do with Moist's exhausted powers echoed across the desolate not-lawn as the head of the Henchman's Union punched right through a zombie's head. He whirled around to Splendour who was eyeing the scene with disbelief. Moist said, "Slight problem with Captain Hammer. That's not... him. Not exactly. Kind of like a copy."

"What? Come on, that's crazy!" Splendour triple-somersaulted and her feet sank into a zombie's abdomen. She nearly fell over with it. "I don't have time for this. Copy or not, he's going to clear a gauntlet. Ready?"

Captain Hammer grabbed Penny by both shoulders and lifted her as one of Courtesan's victims went flying into her path. Still holding her struggling limbs away from his precious face, he informed everyone, "As a matter of fact, there is a hammer on this shirt and no one would be foolish enough to steal my logo. I have lawyers for that. Failing that, my hands can get dirty convincing them otherwise. Don't do chemistry, kids, because you never know when you might create the next plague of undead monstrosities."

"What have you done with my daughter?" Penny shouted at him.

"What is she talking about?" Captain Hammer moved her to one side so he could see the zombie he was aiming his boot at. It impaled itself on his leg, gnashed about for a bit, then fell apart as Splendour careened past. "I didn't even touch the poop factory."

Moist had seemingly regained some of his powers because Penny found the clone's grip on her suddenly slippery and she hit the ground, knocking her friend over. A zombie fell across them and Mist struggled against it until Penny threw both of them off her. She jumped to her feet and tried to get back at Captain Hammer, but the superheroine swooped in to block her. Splendour forced out between quick breaths, "She thinks... you're a clone or something, which is crazy but..."

Captain Hammer's arms, which had still been raised in the air, dropped to his sides. His expression became blank and a zombie crawled in under his legs. Neither entity seemed to take any notice of each other and more zombies began to crowd in around the bulky hero.

"Hammer? Are you alright?" Splendour demanded, but did not get any closer, her eyes wide.

"Professor Normal controls him – he's not going to help us!" Penny half-screamed at her.

Moist took hold of her shoulders, which were still trembling and sore from Captain Hammer's touch, and threw her at Splendour. "Get her out of here. But make sure you come back to help us out, huh?"

Penny struggled, but the heroine latched an arm around her waist and suddenly the ground fell away. The protests lodged themselves halfway up Penny's throat, but Splendour already had her on the road. The brightly-dressed woman gave her a little push and then performed a patronising shooing motion. "Okay there, Penny, is it? I just lost a friend of mine and I'm not in the habit of losing my own life. But I feel inclined to help Moist out, so can you keep yourself out of trouble while I save his butt?"

The streak of blue slammed back onto the other side of the sea of waggling limbs and rejoined the fray. The sun bounced sharply off Courtesan's blades as she hacked her way ahead, followed by torn brown boxing gloves.

Penny watched helplessly as the four moved towards the gap where the gate had once been. The unsettled roiling in her stomach could not have been food related, because she had not eaten for almost a day, and it felt worse than when she'd held the Stun Ray on Professor Normal only for the device to whimper instead of firing. It was like swallowing a ball of pure guilt wrapped up in decaying flesh. No side of garlic.

"That was so cool!" piped up a voice behind her. "Did your brain get eaten?"

Moped abandoned by the gutter, a teenager wearing a faux leather bomber jacket, ridiculously big black frames without any glass in them and holding a phone no larger than his fist was watching the scene with rapt attention. The camera made redundant flashing noises, no doubt capturing everyone's faces. This would not do. Penny snatched his phone and crunched it under her peeling, but still very solid heels. The boy ran off, apparently deciding that his dignity was worth more than a piece of technology. He even left his glasses when they fell off.

She swung around frantically and saw the hill beyond filled with truly dead zombies and ones still having a go at life. No heroes. No villains. No clones. Panic turned her vision grey.

"You okay?" Moist asked from beside her.

Penny was too tired to throw her arms around him again, so merely leaned against him. He put his arms around her shoulders and said softly, "I'm sure the Doc got out in time."

"I just want to see Billie – my daughter," she clarified, in case he thought she meant someone else. Someone they didn't know.

Moist said nothing, but he squeezed her shoulder and very gently led her away after the shadows of their equally worn out companions.

Unfortunately, even if a taxi had dared to come near the zombies, none of our hapless "heroes" would have been able to pay for one.

 

* * *

 

Johnny Snow stared at the collection of heroes, villains and what-have-yous filling the hallway outside Wanda's apartment and merely stepped aside. Asking questions probably seemed like a moot point. Penny pestered him with questions of her own until he pointed mutely at the couch where Billie was propped up against cushions, her mouth opened wide in a yawn.

"So this is what's left of the Heroes Guild and the Evil League of Evil," Wanda said a little while later, looking at them all from her position at the espresso machine. "And they all fit into my living room."

"And the head of the Henchman's Union," Moist added from his patch of floor beside the couch.

Wanda clamped down hard on her smile, instead frowning into the steam rising off her beloved appliance. "You too. Seriously, though, can someone explain about Hammer? He may be denser than his muscles, but even that wouldn't make him run towards Professor Normal like an adoring puppy. Plus, he was with us for a while... we should have noticed something."

"Can I go back to hating him now?" Johnny Snow asked, his face shrouded in confusion. "It was weird thinking of him as someone I didn't want to smack. But I guess being a clone would explain how less douche-y he was."

"And he was able to feel pain," Splendour mused.

"That too," Johnny conceded, draping himself luxuriously over his half of the couch.

Everyone's eyes gravitated towards her eventually, so Penny told her story in as little detail as possible, but she could not avoid the  _looks_ they gave her.

"This is why you leave the evil stuff to your precious Doctor Horrible," Courtesan pitted at her, smiling maliciously in a way that deepened her pinky finger-length scars, before pressing a shivering caress over a tear in her beautiful dress. Penny noticed that she was busier worrying the tear to reveal more of her tan leg than with trying to keep the dress from being ruined any further.

The Pummeller, given the happy position of a fold-out chair next to the armchair that Courtesan had appropriated, stared openly then coughed awkwardly into his glove. "That's not really nice, Courtesan."

"Why would I waste my breath being nice to anyone?" Courtesan demanded, hooking her leg up over the other in a very poor imitation of crossing the limbs.

"You could be nice to me," he sulked. "I always brought you that horchata stuff when you asked me to and – and I carried you most of the way here!"

The villainess smiled, leaning over to pat his thigh. "I haven't insulted you in the past few minutes, have I?"

"These Shikadi are toast," he whispered, testing it out.

She winked slowly, deliberately, just for him, then whispered back, "MS-DOS games are wonderful, aren't they?"

The Pummeller did his best not to criticise her behaviour after that, preferring to stare at her with a dreamy look on his face, much to Penny's disapproval. All previous thoughts of rifling through Wanda Plenn's fridge for lettuce and bread were quickly dropped.

But she still thought it was kind of cute. The Pummeller was a destructive force, but Padraic Jones had very little luck in his personal life. And just because she wasn't happy didn't mean he couldn't be...

 _Keep your head up, Penny,_ she told herself.  _You've been happy with nothing before._

But that had been a very different kind of 'nothing'. She'd barely made her rent five years ago but she'd had... someone. The room warped as moisture beneath her eyes began to heat up. Penny gathered yawning Billie into her arms and escaped into Splendour's tiny, poky bedroom. Moist leaped up from his position on the floor, preparing to follow.

"Let her go," Splendour cautioned him. "She needs a couple of minutes. I know that look."

"She'll need a century," chortled Courtesan, who then turned her radiant smile back on The Pummeller. "I'm sorry, guapo. I will try to behave myself. Unless you'd like me to be naughty..."

The Pummeller's Adam's Apple jogged up and down for a several moments.

"I'm going to need a couple of minutes to myself to keep from throwing up," Johnny Snow grumbled.

Wanda snorted into her freshly-brewed mug of coffee. "I may have to join you. And Courtesan, no one asked you to join us. I don't even know why I let you into my apartment." Her eyes alighted on Moist as he ceased pacing nearby and made his way for the door. "Wait, Moist, it hasn't been enough time – "

"Yeah, you're right," he said over his shoulder. "There's not a heap of time though. And if you want to know what we're supposed to do next, then we need her."

 

* * *

 

Moist joined her on the fire escape, probably a good while after he'd first spotted her there. Whereas she kept against the wall, legs crossed to better stay away from the sharp drop, he preferred to hang his legs over the edge, leaning forward against the bars of the railing to look down. The sliver of sunshine that fell across the fire escape and Penny's arms felt amazing. She shifted Billie from one side of her lap into some of the sun and her daughter murmured in her sleep, unaffected by the change in light. Penny drew her fingers slowly through Billie's dusty blonde hair, trying to smile, but finding it hard to curve her lips over her gritted teeth. After a while, Moist broke the silence. "I'm sorry, Pen."

"I know," she responded, pulling the sleeve over her spare hand to wipe at her eyes. "I guess I just don't want to accept that Billy's not there for me because if I do..."

Moist reached into his jacket pocket and produced a crisp, dry handkerchief. He could not hide the grin as he handed it over with a flourish. The cloth dented loosely between Penny's fingers as she stared at it, then she dampened it at the corner of her eyes. She passed it back to Moist and watched the wet fabric dry within moments. He flicked his fingers over the edge of the fire escape and a tiny blob of moisture sprang away into empty space, presumably hitting the pavement below.

"You taught me to not give up," Moist said, tapping his knees as he swung his legs. "You're always so positive about stuff – but let me teach you when to let go. I know it sucks but... sometimes you have to, you know?"

"You let go of him so long ago," Penny pointed out, looking at him grimly.

His sigh seemed to echo in the empty space inside her. "I regret that. Maybe if I'd been there for the Doc... but right now there are other things to worry about. Let it go, Pen. Even if it's just for now."

She straightened, wriggling her shoulders against the concrete behind her. "Right. Now we need to have an actual plan."

"Well, uh, if you think about it, this all happened because of a plan of yours," he reminded her.

"Thanks, Moist," Penny muttered. "I needed to remember  _that_."

He shook his head a few too many times. "Well, I didn't... okay, so maybe I meant it. Sorry. But we'll fix it, Pen. It's not like uh... it's not like we'll get help. From him."

Billie's hair felt tangled beneath her absent teasing, so Penny busied herself with straightening out the soft strands without waking her daughter. The girl slept on, her small lips in a straight line, though there was a slight nick downwards at one corner. Penny hoped Billie was not dreaming of her namesake. Penny couldn't... couldn't comfort her daughter when it still disturbed her so much. What were they without Bi... that man? Where could they go from here?

"Fine, that's fine," Penny spoke up, voice flat. "If he's too busy or whatever for me, then I'll just have to... do something on my own. I don't know if I can. Things don't work when I'm alone."

Moist cleared his throat. "You did alright living in a separate building across town for ages. And there's... me. You've been more of a friend to to me than Doctor Horrible ever was. He only let me hang around because I got his mail."

"I bet that wasn't true," Penny assured. "Not like... now. Now I don't know. But I do know you're my friend and that counts for something."

"Not to mention you've got the last remaining people in LA who can fight zombies nearby," he pointed out, grinning.

Their mingled laughs filled the fire escape. Penny knew hers sounded a tad shrill, but it didn't matter. The sunshine was suddenly inside her, filling her with that old familiar friend – hope. She gasped for breath, which dislodged Billie's head from her lap. Her daughter blinked up at them and smiled. "Mos?"

"Hey, Billie," Moist replied, leaning over to speak to her face to face. "Miss me?"

"Yup!" she exclaimed, sitting up to swipe at his nose.

Moist darted expertly back. He kicked off one of his shoes and rolled off the dirty, smelly, very-off-white sock then presented it for Billie. Delightedly, she scooped it up and began to pet it. Penny pulled a face – the expression hurt a little, but it felt good regardless. She told Moist, "I just want to be alone with Billie here for a little while. But I promise when I come in, I'll have a plan."

"Just make sure you do it before we all kill each other, huh?" the hero joked before sliding back through the window. The 'hero' label suited him.

Penny smiled after him, then held her daughter close. Billie pecked her lips against her mother's cheek and Penny duly repaid the kiss. Together, they watched the sirens whiz by below and the occasional looter running past with a television set.

There wasn't a lot of time. It was time enough for Penny Claybourne.

Her eyes may have reflected the mayhem below, but inside... there was only quiet.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I swore to myself I'd never give any of the characters in this fandom full names, but sometimes an occasion calls for it. I also think 'Padraic' is a hilarious, somewhat appropriate name for The Pummeller. :) And I'm very fond of 'Claybourne' as Penny's last name.


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